


Petroleum

by acoolgirl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Character Development, Epic, Espionage, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Mystery, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Politics, Revolution, Romance, Slow Burn, Suspense, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 122,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acoolgirl/pseuds/acoolgirl
Summary: In which Madge Undersee lives, and that makes all the difference.CF canon divergent.





	1. The Phoenix

Like most people, Madge’s childhood memories are hazy; a sequence of blurry photos with an occasional frame that stands out in its clarity. One such memory, in which Madge can close her eyes and relive the moment perfectly, is her very first day of school. She had been bouncing up and down in excitement the night before, so much, that Rosa, the Undersee housekeeper, had added a teaspoon of honey to her nightly glass of milk so she would be able to sleep.

Mother had woken her up with a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Are you ready for your first day, sweets?” Mother had whispered, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.

Almost instantly, the sleepiness had left Madge’s eyes and she was grinning widely, throwing her small arms around Mother’s neck, pulling her into her warm and happy nest.

“Yes, Mama!”

That was the last time Mother had ever woken Madge up, her headaches only increasing with age, which meant an increase in morphling dosages as well.

So when Madge is violently shaken awake, only to open her eyes to see her frantic Mother, Madge is confused to say the least.

“Wha’s going on?” Madge slurs, her mind still not yet awake.

“Madge you must get up immediately!” Mother cries, giving her one last shake before going over to Madge’s closet.

Madge sits up completely and realizes that Father is in the room as well- packing away her clothes?

Flinging the floral quilt off of her, Madge has just slid out of bed before Mother thrusts an outfit into her hands.

“Change into this, now!” Mother orders and Madge is no longer sure if she’s actually awake because this possibly can’t be happening.

“Madge, please listen to your Mother,” Father speaks up, and Madge takes in how panicked he looks. She’s known her Father all her life, and she’s never once seen him this uncomposed. “The district is in grave danger, you need to go to Rosa’s house and evacuate.”

Madge gasps, as icy terror seeps into her bones.

“What is going on?” she demands, unable to take not knowing what’s going on a second more.

Father opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of frantic knocking coming from the main door downstairs. Without another word he rushes down to answer it, leaving Madge with Mother.

“Change!” Mother hisses, practically tearing Madge’s nightgown off of her. With jerky movements, Madge complies and a minute later she’s in corduroys, a t-shirt, sweater, jacket, and boots.

“Isn’t it too hot for this?” Madge asks in complete confusion as Mother ushers her out of her room and downstairs.

“Let’s hope that’s the least of your worries,” Mother says tightly, and Madge wants to pull her hair out- why won’t anyone tell her what’s going on?

“I’m here for Madge.”

That voice. Madge knows that voice- she’d recognize it anywhere. Deep and strong, like its speaker. But why is he here? Moreover, why is he here for her?

“Gale?” Madge whispers as she rounds the corner of the stairwell, finding Father and Gale in the entryway.

Gale only glances at her for a second before looking back at Father.

“I saw the hovercrafts, we have only minutes before this entire place is bombed to hell,” Gale explains quickly. “We need to leave now.”

Madge’s knees nearly give away. She had known something bad was going to happen after the Quarter Quell blackout, everyone did, but wiping out the entire district?

“They’re waiting for Thread and his men to clear out, the train is set to depart in about ten minutes,” Father says to Gale. “I’ll go to the Justice Building and cut the power so you can get past the fence and into the woods.”

“No!” Madge cries out. “You can’t Father, you won’t make it!”

Father captures her in his arms suddenly and presses a kiss to the crown of her head.

“I must, my daughter,” he says in a strangled voice. “All my life, I’ve never been able to help this district that I love. The time has come when I finally can. Please, you must understand.”

Madge doesn’t understand, and her eyes are burning from the hot tears that are spilling out of them.

“You can turn off the power?” Gale asks from behind them, reminding Madge of his presence in her house.

“My dear boy,” Father smiles sadly. “All those years the fence was off, you thought that was mere coincidence?”

Gale stares at Father as if he’s seeing a man he’s never realized was there, but Madge has known the goodness of her Father’s heart for her entire life, and she refuses to part with him now.

“I won’t leave without you,” Madge says as steely as she can while crying. Turning to Mother, she adds, “Without either of you.”

“Margaret,” Mother says quietly, and in the moonlight coming in from the open door, she looks more of a ghost than a person. She lifts up a pack that was on the entry table and helps Madge shrug it on, just as she did all those years ago with Madge’s first backpack. “You must live. I knew from the day you were born, you were a very special girl. Your life cannot end tonight.”

“You,” Mother addresses Gale for the first time in her life, and her tone is neither haughty nor demanding. Instead, it is soft, almost loving. “Please, take our daughter. You have both my husband and I’s blessings”

Gale nods and takes Madge’s hand. Madge is shaking so violently she doesn’t even know how she’s still upright. As she scrambles through her yard behind Gale’s silhouette, she can’t help but look over her shoulder. The last sight she has of her parents are them standing in the doorway of her childhood home, smiling and waving at her as if it’s her first day of school.

“Come on,” Gale says gruffly, tugging her along. His legs are much longer than Madge’s and she’s barely keeping tempo with his running pace. It’s just been a few minutes and Madge’s lungs are already burning. There aren’t many townsfolk running, and Madge wonders if anyone warned them. Madge wants to run and knock on every door, to scream run but she knows she’ll never make it, if anything she’ll bring out the Merchants into the open where they’ll die faster.

Her sight is blurry from her tears, so she doesn’t see the rock in her path, and trips over it, her wrist landing painfully on the coal smeared ground.

“Get up, Undersee!” Gale barks, not giving her a moment to recover from her fall. “Those bombs could fall any fucking second!”

Her collision with the ground has cleared her head some, and she realizes that she still doesn’t know why Gale risked his life to come into town to save her of all people. But she barely has enough breath to run, let alone speak, so she swallows down her questions like they’re bile, her vision growing spotty from her depleting oxygen levels.

“I can’t,” Madge wheezes painfully, trying to gulp in as much air as she can. “I can’t run anymore.”

Before Gale has the chance to respond, the ripping noise hovercrafts make when they fly at high speeds tear through the sky, followed by the lonesome crescendo of a singular warhead falling.

For one terrible, terrible moment, all Gale and Madge can do is watch the bomb fall in the middle of Seam, a brilliant orange hue stretching into the sky, before a deafening boom cracks throughout the entirety of the District.

Then the shockwave hits them.

Madge is blown backward, her head slamming painfully against the brick wall behind her, before crumbling into a writhing ball on the ground once more. There is a loud buzzing in both of her ears and it feels as if the axis of the very Earth has been tilted, that’s how dizzy she is.

She’s barely able to pull herself onto her hands and knees before she’s vomiting her dinner from earlier that night. She regrets not holding it in, because each heave felt like a dagger being stabbed in the back of her head.

Her shoulder is being shaken, and she looks up to see a blurry Gale, skin bright red from the heat of the explosion, and soot smudged almost everywhere on him, yelling at her. She wants to tell him that she can’t hear him, but the throbbing from the base of her skull makes it difficult to keep even her eyes open, let alone open her mouth and use her tongue.

She really is her Mother’s child. All she needs is the morphling, and then she can die just as wasted as her Mother has always been.

Gale seems to have given up on trying to communicate with her because suddenly Madge is being lifted up. The sudden movement makes Madge’s skull feel as if it’s cracking in two, but Gale ignores her, tossing her over his shoulder like how he used to with his game bag, and then they’re running once more.

Even though it makes her feel as if her head is about to fall off, Madge keeps her head up to watch the only home she’s ever known, reduced to ashes and death. Two more bombs fall, this time further away from them, so all they feel is the Earth shuddering in pain beneath them. All around her, the once familiar landscape has been so quickly turned into an image that can only be described as hell. Madge knows, without doubt, her parents are dead.

It’s only when she hears Gale’s panting does she realize her sense of hearing has returned, at least to a point where she can hear something other than buzzing.

“Gale,” Madge croaks. “Gale, you can put me down now.”

He does so immediately, which confirms her suspicion that he’s tired too. Her vision is not as blurry, but if she tries to focus too hard, like she tried to do on Gale’s face, her eyes almost roll back into her skull in pain.

“The fence is just over there,” Gale pants. Madge follows his gaze to see that a hole has been cut into the fence. So Father had been successful in turning off the power.

As she follows Gale, trying to keep up despite every muscle protesting and her head minutes away from undergoing an explosion of its own, Madge notices that there’s a scattering of bodies: people that tried to brave the fence before Father got the electricity.

Madge forces herself to look away from their charred bodies and climbs through the fence hole, Gale right in front of her.

“We need to-” Gale is cut off by the dropping of one more bomb, this one stronger than the past several ones all combined. Once more Madge is thrown forward, though this time her landing is blessedly softer, a shrub bush cushioning her fall.

The screams that had been heard scattered around have silenced completely. All Madge can hear, see, and feel are the vicious red, orange, yellow flames that eat gluttonously through what was once people’s homes, dancing almost mockingly through the district as if they taunt her.

We are here! They snicker nefariously. And we have destroyed all that you’ve ever known and loved!

Madge groans in pain and she climbs out of the bush. The bombs haven’t taken everything she loves.

“Gale?” Madge calls, trying desperately to find him through her blurry vision in the illuminated darkness. “Gale, where are you?”

She’s answered by a male grunt, and she immediately turns towards the source. Squinting (and ignoring how that makes her eyeballs feel like they’re about to liquidize), Madge is able to make out the outline of Gale’s body on the grass. Crawling over to him, Madge pushes away his singed hair away from his forehead.

“Gale,” she cries meekly, gently taking his face in her scrapped and blistered hands. “Can you hear me?”

“Uraghh…” Gale moans, face scrunching in pain. Madge never thought such a nonsensical sound would bring her nearly to tears.

“Gale, wake up,” Madge tries to say as soothingly as she can. “Your family must be worried.”

His eyes flutter before Madge is able to see their grays, and even then, they’re narrowed in pain.

“Ribs,” Gale gasps.

Madge’s heart leaps to her throat, and she’s able to banish all thoughts of her headache as she lifts his shirt.

On the left side of his upper abdomen is a bruise the size of a baby, already well on its way to blooming.

“Oh, Gale.” Madge has to bite her lip to keep from crying, she can only imagine how much pain he’s in. And all because of her.

With just her fingertips, she traces up his side, holding her breath as they reach the purple-green discoloration. Gale doesn’t flinch though when she runs her fingers up all the way.

“I don’t think they’re broken,” she tells him, tearing her eyes away from the bruise and back at his exhausted face. “Otherwise you would have jerked pretty violently when I touched them.”

“Bruised then,” Gale says through clenched teeth. Madge nods. “Hell’s teeth.”

“Let me help you up,” Madge offers, but Gale slaps her hand away.

“I don’t need your-” Gale hisses in pain before he can finish speaking, doubling over in pain. Ignoring his initial reaction, Madge tucks herself under the arm of his good side, her lips tugging into a smile for a moment as she feels him lean his weight onto her.

Gale is tall. Easily one of the tallest in the district, which means even with the poor diet he no doubt has, he still has a lot of mass, and by the time they’ve crossed up the hill into the denser part of the woods, Madge feels drenched in sweat from exertion.

 She and Gale hobble along slowly, when suddenly out of the darkness darts a younger Gale.

“Gale!” younger Gale exclaims, his hair in complete disarray. “Are you ok?”

“Rory,” Gale greets tersely, though the relief in his voice is evident. “Where’s Ma and the kids?”

“Forget them, they’re fine!” Rory cries, rushing over to extract his older brother from Madge’s grip. “What happened to you?”

“Other side, idiot!” Gale hisses at Rory as he tries to wind his arm around his injured side.

“Right, right!” Rory quickly rushes to his other side and Gale finally leans into him, more, Madge realizes, than he had when she was helping him.

A bit awkwardly, Madge follows the two Hawthorne boys into a clearing where the survivors of District 12 lay scattered.

A quick survey tells Madge there aren’t many, maybe 800 tops. Out of that small number, there’s an even smaller amount of townspeople. That reminds Madge once more that she should be there in Town Center, her bones melting alongside her parents, not here, saved mysteriously by the guy who probably hates her the most in the district.

“Madge!” A woman’s voice cuts through her thoughts, and Madge is suddenly swept into the arms of Hazelle Hawthorne.

“Oh thank God you’re alright!” Hazelle cries, squeezing Madge tightly. She pulls away from the embrace just enough to study Madge’s features.

“Oh!” Hazelle gasps. “I think you’ve got a concussion! It’s a wonder you can see at all with your eyes crossed like that!”

Ah. That explains the piercing headache and blurring.

“Sit down, sit down!” Hazelle helps her lean against a looming oak. “It’s a good thing you’re wearing layers, saved you from a lot of cuts and burns.”

Madge’s throat closes almost immediately. Her Mother’s last act of love had protected her.

“Let me get Alyssum,” Hazelle says, leaving Madge alone. She can just barely make out Gale and his siblings huddled together by a nearby tree. She wonders why Hazelle isn’t tending to her son. Why her son is injured because of her in the first place.

And then it clicks.

Hazelle must have told Gale about the morphling. There is no other plausible explanation as to why Gale would run back into a war zone to save the district ‘princess’ other than to repay a debt.

Madge bites down on her bottom lip until her tongue is met with the metallic taste of blood.

“There isn’t any treatment for a concussion,” a hollow voice suddenly says. Madge opens her eyes to see Mrs. Everdeen standing in front of her. The woman’s pale face is haunted, and Madge remembers that not only has she lost her home, but her eldest daughter also died yesterday. “I’d prescribe you rest, but…”

Whether she stops out of pity or she just doesn’t have the energy to continue, Madge knows what she was going to say. Out in the wilderness, there is no place for rest and recovery.

“I’m sorry,” Madge blurts, knowing this isn’t the time or the place for this, but she has to tell Mrs. Everdeen this because it suddenly hits Madge all over again that her best friend is dead. “Katniss is...was my best friend.”

Mrs. Everdeen doesn’t say anything, just sways in the wind as if she’s a bare tree branch.

“Feel sorry for yourself,” Mrs. Everdeen says finally, going over to who Madge presumes is Prim. It’s still hard to make out things from a distance.

“Don’t listen to her,” Mrs. Hawthorne tells her passionately, sitting down beside her. “Alyssum never did well under pressure”

“Mrs. Hawthorne,” Madge whispers, unable to look at the older woman in the eye. “Why did you tell Gale?”

Judging by her sigh, Madge knows Mrs. Hawthorne knows exactly what she’s referring to.

“I knew that winter night, when I opened the door and you looked like an angel with your windswept hair and red cheeks, that you were a special girl,” Mrs. Hawthorne whispers, her voice nostalgic. She reaches over and gently tilts Madge’s chin until she’s looking at her. Her silver eyes are clouded by a cloud of tears. “I just couldn’t let you die, please understand.”

Madge is tired of being asked to understand. She just wants to lie down and never open her eyes again. Her parents are dead. Her best friend is dead. Her home rubble. There’s nowhere to go and nowhere to return. But Madge doesn’t say any of that, why should she? Everyone already knows this, you can tell just by looking at afraid everyone’s eyes are.

“Ma,” Gale’s youngest sibling, his sister, has made her way over, and a strange relief fills Madge to see the small girl totally unscathed. “Why’re you sitting here?”

Mrs. Hawthorne gives her daughter a tight-lipped smile.

“Madge’s Mother helped a child of mine when he really needed it,” Mrs. Hawthorne recounts to the girl. Madge remembers the night her Mother had pressed the three vials of morphling into her hands and had whispered go, her blue eyes hooded with understanding. “So now I’m going to take care of Madge.”

This seems to be too long of an explanation for the girl, or she doesn’t care enough, because she shrugs her shoulders.

“Gale said you should come to where we are,” the girl says sweetly, climbing into her Mother’s lap.

Mrs. Hawthorne pushes her out of her lap, much to the girl’s chagrin. “You tell your brothers to come here, and tell Gale to quit his bellyaching.”

“Ok!” the girl chirps, and Madge wonders how the little girl can be so unaffected by the bombings.

“Posy is a free spirit,” Mrs. Hawthorne says by way of an explanation, chuckling. “Nothing gets that girl down. I couldn’t be more thankful.”

“Mrs. Hawthorne, I-”

“Hazelle,” Mrs. Hawthorne interrupts with a smile. “Please, just call me Hazelle.”

Madge nods. She’s never referred to an adult by their first name before.

“Right, um, Hazelle, Gale’s bruised his ribs,” Madge says. “I don’t think he should move around too much.”

Hazelle however, just waves off her concerns.

“He’s been through worse, he’ll be fine.”

Madge swallows tightly, remembering how she had seen the white of his shoulder blade through the lacerated flesh of his whipped back. He certainly has been through worse.

Rory, Posy, and another younger boy all settle beside Hazelle, with Gale trudging behind them.  When he reaches them, he wordlessly sprawls onto the grass, very similar to how she had found him in the clearing.

“Hi, I’m Vick,” the youngest boy says shyly, and Rory besides him rolls his eyes.

“This is Madge!” Posy introduces. “She’s our new sissy!”

“Who said that?” Gale suddenly snaps, still lying down, but face furious. Madge wishes she could get up and walk away from this scene forever, but she isn’t sure if her legs will be able to function for the next several hours.

“Didn’t you say that, Ma?” Posy asks in confusion. Madge could see how she got that from Hazelle’s explanation, but she wishes the little girl hadn’t voiced her conclusion aloud.

“Watch your tone,” Hazelle says cooly, frowning at her son. “If Posy wants Madge to be her sister, that’s up to Madge, isn’t that right, Madge?”

“I, um-” Madge falters, unsure how to answer.

“Of course she’s our new sister,” Rory quips. “Why else would Gale swoop in and save her like this is a fairy tale?”

“To repay a debt,” Madge answers immediately before Gale has a chance to. She doesn’t need to hear that from him.

“Consider it repaid,” Madge says this time to Gale, who’s watching her closely.

“Thank you for everything, Hazelle,” Madge says as she shoulders her pack. “I think it’s time I took my leave.”

Hazelle’s hand shoots out and wraps itself tightly onto Madge’s wrist, effectively anchoring her to her spot.

“Madge, Gale,” Hazelle begins sternly. “Whatever differences you have, I want you both to put them away, at least for now. Our homes have been destroyed, yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to be running around like wild animals. Can I expect you two to behave civilly?”

“Ohhhh,” Rory snickers. “Someone’s in trouble!”

Without even looking, Hazelle smacks Rory upside the head. For a moment Madge wonders if anyone of them even remember that they just narrowly escaped a bombing.

Gale doesn’t respond to his Mother, instead settling for glaring at her with a we’ll discuss this later look.

Madge, who is in no position to do glaring of any kind just says politely, “Of course, Hazelle.”

“Good,” Hazelle huffs. “Now let’s get some sleep. Lord knows we have a long day ahead of us.”

Posy tries to climb onto Gale but he gently pushes her off.

“Not tonight, Pose,” he says gently. Posy huffs before going to her second option, climbing onto Rory, who groans but doesn’t push her away. Vick scoots very closely into Hazelle’s side, and Madge can see now the fear in the boy’s eyes now that his older brothers aren’t up.

Madge pulls out a water bottle from her pack and allows herself just a sip, not realizing how congested with smoke her throat had been until the water washed it away. She slips off her jacket and sweater, using the former as a blanket and the latter as a pillow once she folded it.

As she slowly lowers her throbbing head onto her sweater, Madge looks up at the sky, the constellations hidden behind the billowing smoke.

I didn’t die tonight Madge thinks to herself. Now what, Mama?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I recently just suddenly remembered Madge, and was sorely disappointed when I googled her and found out she had died. I looked more into her character and realized what a hidden gem she was, and how tantamount she could have been in giving Gale a proper epilogue, and so this story was born. I hope you enjoyed, and please, I'd love any feedback!
> 
> ALSO: I've recently made a blog dedicated to Gadge and my writing on them, so please feel free to hmu! you can find me at: gadgeandi.tumblr.com


	2. Spectre

_The world is on fire._

_Every turn she takes is met with another wall of fire. Madge spins around desperately, trying to find a point of escape, but it's futile: she's completely surrounded._

_She collapses on herself, clutching her hair with charred hands, black smoke threatening to obscure her completely when she hears her Mother's voice._

_"_ _Madge!" Mother screams, her voice splitting with gruesome pain. Madge looks up so quickly her neck almost snaps, and there is her Mother, trapped by debris and rubble, burning away. Next to her is Father. Madge can hear him screaming now too._

_"_ _Mama! Daddy!" Madge cries, running forward. But as soon as she reaches the flames she is flung back, as if the fire is a force field. "No!" Madge screams, pounding on the flames, begging for them to give her entry, but they do not budge, even when her own hands catch on fire._

_"_ _Madge," says another voice. Madge turns her head to see Katniss. She's on fire._

_She wants to say her friend's name, but her throat is raw from screaming. She doesn't get the chance to say anything, however, because suddenly the fire that illuminates her beautiful friend's dark skin expands in luminosity until it feels as if Madge's corneas have been burnt away._

_She rubs her eyes desperately, still seeing the bright yellow flare behind her eyelids. When she finally opens her eyes, she is no longer in the crumbling Town Center, but in the middle of the woods._

_"_ _It's alright now," Katniss says softly, the flames that had been dancing upon her had been reduced until it just looked like Katniss was glowing from an otherworldly light._

_"_ _How can it be alright?" Madge whimpers, falling to her knees once again. She isn't the girl on fire- she's the girl who ran from fire, and even then, barely made it._

_Katniss crouches in front of her and gently takes her face into her warm hands. Madge is all but forced to meet her silver-turned-orange eyes._

_"_ _The woods will protect you like they have me," Katniss says lovingly, and Madge wants more than anything to believe her. "The trees do not bend easily, but once its branches entwine around you, you will never have to prove yourself to the woods ever again."_

_Katniss's hands that still cup Madge's cheeks are on fire again, even though the rest of her body is still just a warm glow. Is Madge just another embodiment of District 12? From its coal to its houses, is she just another fodder for fire?_

_"_ _No," Katniss answers, as if she can read Madge's mind. "Not fodder, but the very fuel that keeps the fire burning."_

Madge wakes with a start. It's still dark, so that means she's slept a maximum of two hours. Which is a generous estimate, considering how her head is still pounding, and her body is still sore. She's breathing quickly, a lingering side effect of her nightmares no doubt, but Madge focuses more on the conversation she had just had with her dead best friend.

Was that Katniss from the beyond, trying to give Madge advice? Madge frowns as she tries to remember every detail from the dream, already fading into an abyss. Katniss had told her to...trust the woods, prove that she was worthy of being here, and the woods would grow on her.

For someone that was practically defined by her practicality, Katniss had parted with Madge a rather cryptic message.

The sky is still hidden behind great walls of black smoke, which is probably why the temperatures are so low. Madge slowly pushes herself up, and removes her jacket from her legs, wincing as she shrugs it on.

More awake now, Madge suddenly realizes that someone is watching her. A tilt of her head confirms her intuition.

"What?" Madge asks Gale self-consciously, knowing she probably looks like she got run over by a hovercraft.

"You were whimpering a lot," Gale says, watching her very closely. Madge has to physically restrain herself from cringing. 'Whimper' just thinking the word made her feel pathetic, she could only imagine how much further she fell in Gale's eyes as he watched her practically blubbering like a baby.

"I'm fine," Madge whispers, unable to meet his gaze. Not that she can make out much anyways, considering the moon is completely concealed, and a fire someone had made a little bit over has been reduced to just embers.

"It's ok to not be fine," Gale says with a shrug of his huge shoulders. "No one here is."

"Right," is all Madge can say. A stifling silence comes between them, and Madge desperately wishes she were back in her bedroom with its safe, creamy white walls, away from this Seam Boy, and the tumultuous feelings he sparked in her belly.

"What your Father did…" Gale begins suddenly, and Madge has to shut her eyes to fight the sudden welling of tears. Gale clears his throat. "It allowed my family to get out on time, before the bombs fell."

Madge nods. Father had saved many lives this night, at the cost of his own.

"So, I'll let you travel with me and my family."

Madge's eyes fly open, and she has to restrain herself from grabbing her pack and bashing it over Gale's thick head. Repeatedly.

"My  _Father,_ " Madge spits at him, fighting to keep her voice steady and low. "Did not sacrifice himself for this District for  _you_  to take it as an act of charity. So excuse me, but I'll have to  _reject_  that offer of yours."

"Undersee," Gale exhales in frustration. "You don't know what you're saying. You won't last two days alone."

"And what about  _them_?" Madge gestures to the refugees around them with a wave of her hand. "You're going to just abandon them?"

"Stop trying to make me a villain!" Gale seethes, face twisted in fury. "Hell's teeth, woman! I can't take care of 800 people!"

Madge purses her lips. She knows that Gale has a point, but she also knows that only Gale has the knowledge required to survive in this terrain. If she were to get up and leave with him, she would be leaving all these people to a certain death of starvation and exposure.

If she did that, she'd be practically spitting on her Father's grave. Not that he has one.

"How much did Katniss tell you about District 8 before she left?" Gale breathes sharply at the mention of Katniss's name and looks at her with narrow eyes.

"Enough," Gale answers haltingly. "Why?"

Madge sits up, and tucks her hair behind her ears, ignoring its now brittle texture, thinking carefully about what to say to him.

"While Mr. Abernathy was still here, I helped smuggle information from my Father's newspapers to him," Madge says quietly. Gale's eyes grow wide, as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "To protect me, Mr. Abernathy kept me in the dark as much as he could, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was part of an underground rebel network."

Gale sits up so quickly that even Madge winces as he hisses in pain.

"What are you saying?" Gale demands. "That there's an organized rebellion? And you've been a part of it all this time?"

Madge just nods, letting him absorb the information.

"Hell's teeth…" Gale stares into the distance, and Madge can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"If we band together, we can set up camp and train ourselves," Madge says. "I'm sure the rebel network will reach out to us, and if not, we can do some damage of our own."

"You're thinking too small Undersee," Gale says with a grin, and despite everything she's been through in the past few hours, her heart still skips a beat to see such a wide smile directed at her. "If what you're saying is true, what would be the most logical place for a rebel headquarters? A place that would stick it most to the Capitol?"

Out of habit Madge nearly hushes him for saying the word Capitol in a treasonous sentence, but remembers things are different now.

"I...I don't know," Madge confesses, not following Gale's train of thought.

Gale shakes his head as if it's the most obvious answer.

"District 13."

"Did you hit your head too?" Madge asks incredulously. "Or do I have to remind you that District 13 was nuked off the map?"

"Use that blonde head of yours Undersee," Gale argues. "We already know most of the shit taught to us is barely even true. Besides, even if they were bombed, enough time has passed for people to start living there again."

Madge bites her lip and tries to weigh the pros and cons. Pro: the remnants of the district come together, and are able to form a commune of sorts which would increase their chances at survival. Con: They wander aimlessly until they hit a nuclear wasteland and die of radioactive poisoning. But. Gale is intelligent, and will probably be able to spot signs of chemical decay before they actually reach a point where it's too dangerous to continue.

"So…" Madge says, a small smile starting to spread across her lips. "To District 13?"

Gale smirks back. "To District 13."

"Lord above me, you two take longer to reach an agreement than Asher and I ever did," Hazelle suddenly mutters from her spot on the ground next to Madge.

Madge's cheeks burn at the insinuation and looks to see that Gale is frowning in annoyance at his once more sleeping Ma.

"Anyways," Madge says awkwardly, tucking her cold hands into her pockets. "Any ideas on how to organize this expedition?"

Here Gale visibly deflates, and Madge is reminded that not only is Gale alone in his knowledge of hunting, but he's also injured.

"Katniss took me into the woods a few times," Madge says quickly. "So I-"

"Wait, what?" Gale interrupts, looking halfway between shocked and livid. "She took you into these woods?"

"If she knew any other woods I'm sure she'd take me there too," Madge says sweetly, taking satisfaction in how her sarcasm annoys Gale. "Back to the point, we both learned pretty quickly I'm no hunter."

"No kidding," Gale mutters, rolling his eyes.

Not bothering to acknowledge his quip, she continues. "But she did teach me a lot about gathering. I'd be happy to pass on that information. With enough of us scavenging, we can get a decent amount of food, no?"

Gale shakes his head. "It could last for a while, but we need protein."

Madge waits for him to continue. Only half of his face is illuminated in the red light of the dying embers, the other half still submerged in the cosmic darkness. It's unfair that this boy literally ran through a burning district, and still came out looking devastatingly handsome. Madge doesn't need a mirror to know she looks like a rat's nest.

"I guess I could teach some men how to set up some snares...maybe get a few fishing lines going as well," Gale muses, then looks at her, which Madge realizes after a moment, for her opinion.

"Oh! I think that's a great idea!" Madge says excitedly, and she's being honest. "We can combine our resources and make sure it's all distributed evenly."

"Easier said than done," Gale huffs. "But it can be done."

"With you leading us," Madge says softly, looking at her scraped knees. "I'm sure we will."

Gale doesn't respond, and Madge feels stupid for saying that out loud. What is wrong with her? Dropping compliments as if she's a schoolgirl hoping to be whisked off to the slagheap. She should really know better.

"Get some sleep, Undersee," Gale tells her, but not unkindly. "I'm gonna need your help if I wanna pull this off."

Hell's teeth! Needed by  _the_  Gale Hawthorne? She'll take that over a slagheap haul any day. She gets only about an hour's worth of sleep before Gale wakes her up by toeing her shoulder, but she hadn't seen any more visions of her parents dying. They would want her to fight on, like how Katniss had taught her to do.

So she will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Gadge day! I apologize if this chapter was a bit too metaphorical, but it laid out some really important groundwork, most importantly, how Madge is able to push past the trauma of losing her parents in a very violent way. 
> 
> Did everyone catch who the woods is a metaphor for? ;)


	3. The Exodus

The morning sun is hidden behind a desolate gray sky. The temperatures are nearing frigid, despite the fact it’s August: always a month of sweltering heat in the District. An ashy flurry started sometime between Madge and Gale’s conversation and when they both had woken up.

“The smoke is literally hiding away the sun’s warmth,” Gale had explained to Posy, who was absolutely delighted at the sight of ‘snow’ in summer. “The flurry has to pass through the smoke, which is why it’s falling black.”

It made a rather eerie picture; a lush, green forest, slowly being dusted with black demise falling from the skies.

The Hawthorne’s and Madge eat a meagre breakfast. Madge allows herself from her pack only three sips of water, and two crackers. It’s probably best to ration until there’s a more definite source of food.

Gale stands up first, dusting himself off before looking at Madge. “Ready?”

Her head is still aching, and she is suddenly overcome with anxiety. What if she can’t properly pass on the knowledge of gathering to everyone? What if she herself never even properly learned it? It isn’t as if Katniss had tested her on it. She swallows thickly and nods if only because she can’t bear the thought of letting her Father, her District, Katniss, and _Gale_ down so monumentally. Besides, she can’t succeed if she doesn’t try, right? And if she doesn’t try, then she fails by default.

Feeling a bit more confident, Madge stands up, thankfully without much protest from her muscles, which have more or less recovered from last night.

“You gonna call a meeting?” Hazelle asks, helping Posy put on her pack. Madge has to look away from that, memories of her own Mother doing the same thing just hours ago flooding back.

“Yeah,” Gale answers, gazing wearily at the still mostly sleeping district. “A meeting.”

“Want me to holler?” Rory offers with a wide grin. “I can holler real loud.”

“We’re gonna need to find a spider first,” Vick teases, who finally seems to have awakened, having eaten breakfast in an almost comatose state.

“Oh, shut up,” Rory grumbles, as Posy giggles. “It was huge!” Rory tells Madge, defending his honor. Madge has to bite her lip to keep from smiling. She doesn’t need two Hawthorne boys that can’t stand her.

“I have no doubt it was,” Madge reassures him, and Rory’s shoulders relax a bit. Vick runs his fingers up Rory’s leg to mimic a spider’s crawl.

“Enough!” Hazelle scolds sternly when Rory punches Vick in retaliation, holding a now squirming Posy who also wants a turn at punching poor Vick. “Your brother has enough on his mind without you lot stirring up trouble.”

“Sorry Gale,” Posy apologizes, bashfully toeing the dirt. “Vick and Rory started it.”

“Hey!” Vick cries. “That’s not true!”

“Gale,” Madge quickly interrupts, before another Hawthorne brawl breaks out. As endearing as Madge finds this family, which she really, truly does, there are, unfortunately, more pressing matters at hand. “Can’t you just tell them what you told me, about 13? They’ll believe you.”

“I’m sure they will,” Gale sighs, not meeting her eyes. “And that’s the problem. What if they believe me, and I lead them all on a death march?”

“You won’t,” Rory cuts in, surprising everyone. Madge doesn’t know much about the boy, but it’s clear that being serious isn’t exactly his defining trait. “Gale, asides from Katniss, no one knows these woods better than you. After Pa died, and Ma was still recovering, you were the only thing that kept us all from dying. If you did that at 14, I reckon there’s nothing you can’t do now.”

Madge can’t help but feel as if she’s intruded on a very intimate, brotherly moment, but is honestly too touched to feel bad.

“I…” Gale trails off, looking overwhelmed and joyous at his brother’s confession. It seems heart to hearts aren’t that common in their household.

“I second that,” Madge adds softly. “I mean, if you could drag the District princess out in time,” Madge says with a laugh, poking fun at herself. “Then I’m sure you can help out these folks here.”

Gale snorts and rolls his eyes, but there’s something close to a smile on his face. “That’s true.”

“Oh hush you!” Hazelle chastises her eldest son. To Madge, she says in a much sweeter tone. “Don’t say things like that Madge, you’re an amazing young woman.”

Not wanting the script to be flipped to something as menial as her, Madge just nods and agrees.

“Well, here goes nothing, then,” Gale decides, turning around to go to what could be approximated as the center of the clearing, where most of the refugees are located.

“Good luck,” Hazelle tells him, standing up to cup his cheek and pull him down so she can press a kiss to his cheek.

“Can I come?” Posy asks excitedly, as if Gale is going to the sweets shop.

“Sure,” Gale answers good-naturedly, holding out his hand for her to grasp. Madge notices that he’s still favoring his left side. It’ll probably take some time before his right side is healed.

“You coming?” Gale calls over his shoulder, pulling along a skipping Posy.

“Yes!” Madge answers quickly.

“Good luck,” Hazelle says to her as well, as Madge passes her, and Madge gives her a grateful smile. She doesn’t know about Gale, but Madge will definitely need it.

When Gale had shouted for a congregation, everyone had gathered quickly. Now, as every pair of eyes from the District are on them, Madge finds that she isn’t anxious to be standing in front of everyone. All her life, she had burned with the guilt of knowing that she lived a life of austere privilege and ease, while her fellow District citizens starved from no fault of their own. But now, Madge has finally been granted the opportunity to do some _good_ in her pathetic life, and she’ll be damned if she lets it slip from her fingers.

 _“Father,_ ” Madge prays silently. _“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I swear to you, that I’ll give my life for these innocent people, just as you did. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. I have faith in Gale.”_ Madge thinks back to how relieved Father had been when Gale had been standing in their entryway. _“Just like how you did._ ”

Most people look relieved to see Gale stepping forward, as if they were anxiously waiting for this moment. This doesn’t really come as a surprise, considering how nearly everyone knows of Gale’s reputation as an adept woodsman.

But as Madge scans the crowd, she can’t help but feel her heart break just a little more as she takes in just how _lost_ everyone looks, and how _desperate_ they are to have Gale ease their fears, if only be mere centimeters.

Gale doesn’t falter under their gazes, though little Posy seems to have grown a shy bone, because she tucks herself under her brother’s arm. Madge walks up until she’s shoulder to shoulder with Gale. Well, in terms of alignment, in reality, the top of her head doesn’t even clear his shoulders.

“Our home has been destroyed,” Gale begins, his deep voice almost booming through the empty spaces between the trees. “The Capitol has declared war on us, and we won’t go down with our tail between our legs.”

“District 13 exists,” at this, a few people gasp, and murmurs break out in the crowds. “And I can get us there.”

“How do you know that 13 is still there?” someone shouts from the back. A few people nod and everyone looks at Gale expectantly. Truthfully, even Madge is curious to hear his logic; will he give them the same reasoning he had given her?

“Because Katniss and I once met two people in these very woods, traveling there,” Gale answers steadily. At this, even Madge nearly gasps. Katniss had never shared that particular piece of information with her.

“But how will we get there?” a shaky voice asks. The speaker is a frail young woman, with two young children, the oldest no older than two, and no husband. A widow. Madge quickly averts her eyes, unable to stand the misery in the woman’s hopeless eyes.

Gale seems to be affected by her sorrow as well, because he swallows before he answers.

“I know these woods. I know how to hunt, and I can teach others how to as well,” Gale replies, his voice unwavering. “Madge here,” Gale gestures at her, and Madge tries to smile reassuringly at the widow. “Knows a thing of two about gathering. Between the two of us, we can pass on our skills to enough people that if we come together, we can and _will_ survive.”

She can feel the questioning gaze of the District upon her, and Madge can’t really blame them: why would the Mayor’s daughter know anything about the woods?

“According to the Capitol, all of us should be dead right now,” Gale continues, making Madge look up at him. His gray eyes are ablaze. “Just staying alive now, is an act of revolt. We _are_ the revolution- the future of our children, and our children’s children now rest solely on what we decide to do today. Do we branch off, isolated and alone like how the Capitol always wanted us to be, or do we come together, and let Snow that it doesn’t matter how many bombs he drops, he can destroy a District, but he can’t destroy our hope!”

Gale’s impromptu speech actually gathers cheers, which grows as people consider his words; consider a future where death does not linger around every corner, a future in which people may for the first time in their lives actually _live_.

As Gale stands there, spine straight, Posy tucked into his side, and face tilted just slightly towards the sky, as if an angel is whispering these words of courage into his ear,  Madge’s heart swells with pride. Her own broken heart seems to be pieced together with his strong words, and in that moment Madge knows without doubt that Gale will be able to lead this group of people towards safety and security.

With just a few words, Gale has managed to spark a flame into everyone’s ashen hearts.

Madge chances a glance back at the widow and see’s that she is clutching her two children to her bosom tightly, but there is a reverent smile on her face.

“There’s a lake due east from here,” Gale interrupts the whoops and hollers. “It’s about a quarter of a mile, give or take. The water is clean, and there should be game there, considering all the animals must’ve been scared off in these parts.”

“Gather your things,” Gale instructs everyone. “We’ll leave in about 15 minutes.”

Gale turns around, no doubt to return to his awaiting family. He nods to Madge as he passes her.

Madge smiles widely when he can no longer see her. She knows that Katniss and Peeta’s stunt with the berries had spurred nationwide revolts, but to Madge, the revolution had just begun.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good? Bad? Please let me know! My greatest fear is writing a Mary Sue, so please tell me if I ever write Madge as one, or if I've already been writing her as one.


	4. Picky

Madge’s pack is already, well, packed, so she decides to entreat into the denser parts of the woods for some privacy. She finds a small slope that she walks up, and rounds a large bush at its top.

Checking over her shoulders to ensure there’s no one in the vicinity, Madge pulls out her water flask and greedily empties its contents, the dryness of her throat and heaviness of her tongue finally alleviated. With that done, she lifts her shirt so she can unbutton her corduroys.

This will probably be the worst part of living in the wilderness.

Holding her pants and pantie in her hands, Madge crouches awkwardly, and tries not to feel too self-conscious as her bladder happily empties itself. Once that’s all well and done, Madge groans at the thought of what she must do next.

Balling her pants under one arm, Madge tears a leaf off the bush besides her, carefully checking it to make sure there isn’t anything on it. Even then, she rubs it against her shirt meticulously. When she can’t put off the inevitable any longer, Madge cringes and wipes herself with the leaf.

She ends up using two more leaves, to make sure she’s as clean as she can be, given the circumstances, before she gets up and redresses. Too late, Madge realizes that she hadn’t left any water for her to rinse her hands with.

 _“It’s ok Madge,_ ” she consoles herself, as she walks back to the clearing. _“Remember reading from Father’s biology book, how fresh urine actually doesn’t have any bacteria, only from exposure over time does the bacteria begin to accumulate?”_

She isn’t all that consoled when rejoins the District, but there isn’t anything she can do about it, so she pushes it out of her mind.

It seems that most people are ready, and a caravan begins to loosely form, with the Hawthorne’s and the Everdeen’s at its head. From her spot amongst the crowd, Madge can see Hazelle looking around, most probably for her. Madge ducks her head and lets herself blend in with her surroundings: Hazelle and the kids are angels, but Madge thinks she’s pushed her Gale interaction quota enough as it is.

The survivors begin their journey to the lake, and Madge tries not to feel lonely as she trudges on with strangers, trying to distract herself with the nurturing beauty of the woods.

She’s flanked by two Seam families, who are content with ignoring her, which she’s actually fine with too. After all, what is there to talk about? The weather? Madge prefers the silence, in which she can contemplate what can be labeled as lesson plans for her soon to be gathering pupils.

She’s going through her mental catalogue of edible berries, when someone taps her shoulder. A boy and a girl, who seem near her age have shouldered their way into the small circle Madge takes up between the two Seam families.

The boy, who had tapped Madge’s shoulder, is Seam and looks familiar, but Madge can’t quite place where she’s seen that boyish grin before.

“Thom Bryne,” the boy introduces himself, holding out a dark hand for Madge to shake. The boy is handsome, but he has a mole beneath the corner of his left eye that really makes him look endearing. “District hero.”

The girl beside him snorts but doesn’t say anything, just continues walking besides him. She has the shiniest hair Madge has ever seen, hanging down her shoulders straight as a pin, while an expression of extreme boredom is plastered on her pretty face.

“Madge Undersee,” Madge tells him, even though he already knows who she is, as she hesitantly places her hand in his. His handshake is firm and warm, and let’s go of her hand after two friendly pumps. “I’m afraid I don’t know about the hero part.”

“Ah, well,” here, his grin grows wider, if that’s even possible, and pulls from his pocket a tool that looks related to a household scissor, but it has rubber handles and its rounded blades look much sharper than what Madge had used to cut paper with. “I had run into the mines and came up with this Bypass Pruner in my pocket, which I used to cut the hole in the fence you came through.

“Oh!” Madge gaps, her eyes growing wide. In her terror of getting out of the District as fast as possible, she hadn’t even realized that hole in the fence was much larger than what it originally was. “That _is_ heroic!”

“What Mr. Hero here is failing to mention,” the bored girl speaks up for the first time. “Is that he had run into the mines yesterday _morning_ because he had slept in, and he had the pruner in his pocket because he had forgotten to put it back.”

“Bristel, are you contractually obligated to shit on my happiness?” Thom grumbles, shoving Bristel away from him. Bristel retaliates immediately by elbowing him between the ribs.

As Thom hisses in pain, Bristel turns her silver eyes towards Madge, the boredom replaced by an intense curiosity.

“So, why’d Gale go back for you?” Brisel asks Madge bluntly. Thom straightens up immediately and nods, looking just as curious as her. The mention of Gale is what opens up her few memories of Thom: he’s Gale’s friend, she’s seen him with Gale around the District a few times.

“Yeah, it was really unexpected,” Thom comments, as they wait for her response.

What should she tell them? The truth? Then they’ll want to know why she gave him the morphling in the first place, and Madge is  _not_ opening that Pandora’s box.

“He owed me,” Madge answers vaguely, making sure to meet both Thom and Bristel’s gazes so they don’t conclude that she’s lying. She isn’t after all, not really. She may not have ever wanted anything in exchange for that morphling, but she knows the moment Gale had learned about it, he couldn’t have let her die without getting even.

“Owe you what?” Thom asks obliviously, while Bristel next to him rolls her eyes.

“None of your damn business,” Bristel tells him, a hint of warning in her tone.

Thom must have picked up on this, because he quickly changes the subject.

“So, Madge, how do you know about gathering?” Thom asks. “Katniss?”

“Katniss,” Madge confirms, suddenly filled with longing for her best friend. Those days spent in the woods with her friend now seem like a dream, so peaceful and perfect they had been. She’d give anything to have those moments with Katniss back.

“Katniss,” Thom repeats, this time sadly. Even bored Bristel looks down in remorse. “It’s a shame what happened to her. She deserved better.”

“She did,” Madge agrees, her voice small.

Thankfully, neither Thom nor Bristel bring up Katniss or Gale up again, which Madge is grateful for. Because when they aren’t triggering her with painful memories, they’re actually pleasant company.

“So how do you know each other?” Madge asks, curious to know. She has a hunch that they’re siblings, but Madge doesn’t voice that in case they’re dating, in which saying they’re related would just be offensive.

Bristel and Thom exchange a look and Madge wonders if she’s offended them already, crossing a line she wasn’t supposed to.

“Well, to keep things simple,” Thom tells her conspiratorially. “We just tell everyone we’re cousins. The truth is, I’m her Uncle.”

“And,” Bristel adds amusedly. “I’m older than him.”

Madge frowns as she tries to make sense of this. “How did that work out?”

“My Mom, Thom’s older sister,” Bristel explains to her. “Got married immediately upon graduating. She was barely 19 when she had me. My Grandma, who had had my Mom at the same age, was still not that old when she got pregnant with Thom here. Thom was born when I was about one year’s old.”

“Wow,” is all Madge can say.

“Wow indeed,” Thom agrees with a laugh. “Do you see now why we go with the whole cousin thing? Less weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Madge insists, though she does wonder why the fake cousin trope is so popular in 12. “You two have a unique bond, you should treasure it.”

“You asking me to treasure _this_?” Bristel points to Thom with her thumb, the latter who is trying to remove a leaf from his hair, and failing when he realizes the leaf has sap on it. Madge has to stifle a giggle.

The family in front of them has slowed down, and Madge realizes that they’ve already reached the lake, and the view of it takes her breath away.

The water is blue and glimmering under the now visible sun. The trees surround it like a halo, with the mountains in the backdrop framing it as if it's an oil painting. With the weather warming up, but still cooler, it’s the perfect setting.

Thom blows a low whistle. “Now that’s a beauty.”

Madge nods and turns to her new...friends? Acquaintances? She isn’t sure of their relationship, but she’s enjoyed their company nevertheless.

“It was really nice talking to you both,” Madge tells them honestly. “But I should probably get up there and help out Gale.”

“I’m glad Gale saved you!” Thom says warmly. “You’re nice! Nicer than Bristel for sure.”

“Oh, shut up you dunce,” Bristel snaps, but with no malice. “We’ll be around if you need anything, Madge.”

So, talking to her wasn’t a one-time thing. She tries not to grin like a fool at the prospect of making _two_ whole new friends as she makes her way over to Gale.   

“Done socializing?” Gale sneers as soon as she’s close enough. Madge’s good mood instantly dissipates.

“No,” Madge answers, her face neutral but voice haughty. “I wasn’t, but there’ll be more time for that later.”

This wasn’t the response he was expecting, which Madge can see as his eyes narrow and brow furrows, but doesn’t say anything further on the topic. Is he upset that she’s fraternizing with his friend group? Madge wonders if she’s ever unknowingly spat in his porridge bowl, because there’s no way he can hate her this much with no real basis.

“Before we branch off into groups for hunting and gathering,” Gale says loudly, pulling away everyone’s attention from the lake. “Anyone with skills they think can be useful for survival, or brought with them anything that can help, like pots or pans, please step forward.”

A handful of men know how to build fires. They’re delegated to finding firewood. One man, for whatever reason, had brought with him a shovel, and with such an enthusiasm it was unnerving, volunteers to dig holes for “folks to crap in!”.

Gale nods slowly, looking momentarily disturbed as the man quickly scurries into the woods.

“Make separate areas for men and women!” Gale calls after ‘holey’ man, as Madge has nicknamed him in her mind. ‘Holey’ man raises a hand in acknowledgment.

The District seamstress reveals that she brought her sewing things with her, and offers to try and put together some makeshift tarps. A few women volunteer to help her with this.

“Go around and ask if anyone has some fabric to spare,” Gale instructs the seamstress, who nods attentively. “And remember that its function should serve to protect us from mainly rain and insects.”

As Madge watches Gale slowly organize the camp, she can’t help but feel her annoyance towards him slip away and be replaced with admiration, and Madge remembers, but for all of that- for all his cutting words and harsh glares, Madge would gladly throw her arms around his neck and drown in his kisses.

But Gale isn’t going to drown her in his kisses, and Madge has too much self-respect to mope around over a boy.  Madge promises herself then and there that her days of pining after Gale Hawthorne are over: she and Gale are now equals, in the eyes of both themselves, and everyone else, and she isn’t going to endanger everyone because she’s over the moon for a guy who frankly views her akin to coal dust.

“Alright!” Gale calls loudly. “Who will my hunters be?”

A few men and boys step forward. Rory looks the most excited to be there. No women. Madge can’t help but feel offended on Katniss’s behalf, but then humbles herself when she remembers she couldn’t hunt herself.

“Hey, buddy!” Thom greets cheerfully, slapping Gale playfully on the shoulder. “I’m in the mood for some mountain lion tonight!”

“Stop that,” Gale scowls at him, but Thom ignores him, slinging his arm over Gale’s shoulders. Gale violently shrugs him off, and Madge see’s Rory snickering to the side. The men watching look apprehensive, as if they’re just realizing that their fates lay in the hands of a man who’s barely 19.

“And gatherers!” Madge doesn’t particularly like calling attention towards herself, but once it's on her, she knows how to deal with it. One of the ‘perks’ of having been the Mayor’s daughter, she supposes. Besides, it’s best to distract everyone from the fact that Gale is currently acting like a petulant child.

Her group is mostly women, but there are a few young teenage boys sprinkled in as well, most of them accompanying their moms and sisters. To her surprise, Prim joins the group. Bristel winks at her from the back.

“Alright,” Gale nods, before he makes his way into the woods, his men following him.

Madge stops herself from rolling her eyes- so maybe Gale _isn’t_ the perfect leader she had envisioned him as.

“Don’t worry,” Madge assured her gatherers. “I’ll give a little longer introduction than ‘alright’.”

This actually gathers a few laughs, and Madge feels more confident in her role as a teacher.

“I think the easiest way is to make loops around the lake, expanding in radius each time we complete one. Every time we come across something we can eat, I’ll show it to you all, and we’ll leave behind a few people to gather them. Sound good?”

Everyone nods and Madge takes a deep breath. Now or never. “Let’s head out then.”

By the time it’s just her and Bristel, about a mile away from the lake, they’ve come across mushrooms, pinecone seeds, wild onions, acorns, bull thistle’s, cattails, chickweeds, chives, clovers, pine needles, peppergrasses, curly docks, dandelions, field mustard and garlic mustards.

Madge had been hesitant going on without Prim: she had a soft spot for the girl, after all, but she and a girl who Madge assumed was a friend of hers had seemed almost happy to gather dandelions in the pretty field they had come across, so Madge let them be. Most of the boys that had come with her were climbing up the trees, scavenging for acorns while their mother’s gathered on the ground below. There had been a lot of laughing and hollering, and Madge was glad the boys were able to make a game out of it, it keeps the morale high.

“You’re good at this,” Bristel comments offhandedly, as if she’s discussing the weather. “Teaching.”

Madge shrugs. “Not really, I’m just passing on what I know.”

“Last time I checked, that’s kinda what teaching is,” Bristel deadpans, but her lips are twitching upwards.

“Ok, go ahead and laugh,” Madge says. “That was pretty dumb what I just said.”

So Bristel laughs, and Madge does too. Madge revels in how different this friendship is from her’s and Katniss’s yet how similar. While Katniss was silent because she was constantly on guard against the rest of the world, Bristel keeps quiet until she finds something that doesn’t bore her. Madge is quiet too, but that’s because you learn much more by listening than by speaking. Madge is happy to learn that she’s interesting enough to entertain perpetually bored Bristel.

She’s about to tell Bristel this, when she stops in her tracks.

“What is it?” Bristel asks apprehensively.

Madge just points.

It isn’t a very tall tree, but it has beautiful pink leaves, which blow tantalizingly in the warm breeze. While its beauty is what caught Madge’s eyes, that isn’t what kept them there. Because hanging from its branches is something Madge only dares to hope.

_Apples._

Besides her, Bristel gasps, and Madge knows she’s seen them too. Wordlessly, they both run towards the tree.

Bristel is able to jump up and grab hold of a branch. Swinging her legs up, she hoists herself until she’s hanging upside down off the branch on all fours. With one hand, she reaches out and pulls an apple off its stem, tossing it down into Madge’s awaiting hands.

“I think these are regular apples,” Madge says as she closely inspects the red fruit. “Doesn’t look too different than the one at the grocer’s.”

“Hmm...smells like ‘em too,” Bristel observes, and Madge agrees. Still, this was never cleared by Katniss to her, and Madge isn’t sure if they can take the risk. Bristel pulls herself up until she’s sitting right side up on the branch. She pulls another apple down and tosses it in between her hands.

“This apple is a crabapple,” Bristel says suddenly, taking Madge by surprise.

“How do you know that?” Madge asks, frowning up at her friend.

“Well, I…” Bristel trails off, looking over to the side uncertainly. “I know this sounds crazy, but ever since I was a kid, once I see something, I never forget it.  A teacher once said it’s photographic memory or something.”

That explains the constant boredom. Bristel is a genius that bores too quickly with things that takes everyone else months to remember.

“That’s amazing!” Madge compliments genuinely. “No, really Bristel, I’m so glad you told me this, you’ll be able to help me remind everyone what we can or cannot gather!”

Bristel’s smile is hesitant. “You don’t think I’m making it up?”

“Why would I?” Madge asks incredulously.

Bristel doesn’t answer, just throws the apple in her hand towards Madge. They both quickly learn that the tree must be past its peak season, because there aren’t many apples, only a dozen or so.

Still, they pack the apple’s with them and head back into camp in good spirits. They don’t pass anyone else on their way back, so Madge assumes that the rest have already headed back.

Her assumption is correct, and what’s more is that Gale’s group is back as well, and with them, a dead deer. The District, which had seemed so somber just this morning is already so much more alive, with colorful tents sprung up and firewood scattered around awaiting nightfall. Pots have been filled with water, and there are even a few children playing hide and seek.

“Huh,” Bristel says besides her, as they both take in the bustling camp. “Seems almost too easy, no?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN...foreshadowing, lots of it.


	5. Larceny

In all her worrying over whether or not there would be enough food for everyone, Madge had been able to more or less ignore her persistent headache. But now, with the consolation that everyone will be able to sleep tonight with at least the bare minimum of required nutrition in their stomachs, the pain makes her vision spotty and her breathing shallow. 

With a cordial nod to Bristel, who walks over to her family, Madge slowly makes her way over to the lake’s edge, where she tiredly folds herself onto her knees. They’re far enough away from the district that the smoke no longer looms over them, and the August temperature creeps back up. She hisses in relief at the feel of the cool water on her hot skin, cupping her hands to bring water up to her face.

One of the first lessons Katniss had taught her is that clean water in the forest didn’t equal safe water. Slowly, she had Madge build resistance to the natural bacteria and other microbes in the water by taking small sips, drinking more and more over the course of a week. In the beginning, her stomach had cramped terribly, and she had been mortified when she found herself having to need to use the toilet right there in the woods. Katniss had just smiled (well, on other people, it would be a neutral face, which in Katniss terms, is a smile) and explained that her stomach would grow upset a few times in the beginning, but would eventually build resistance and be able to digest the water with ease.

So Madge isn’t worried about any inconvenient bowel movements as she greedily drinks the crisp water. She does empathize with the rest of the District, however. In the grand scheme of things, they’re all lucky, really, to have ‘holey’ man with them.

Once her thirst is satiated, she begins the arduous process of trying to clean herself while still wearing dirty clothes. She has one more outfit in her pack, but she’s waiting until her current one is totally tarnished before switching.

Once she’s convinced she no longer smells like rotting eggs, Madge bows her head over the water, and slowly pours water from her hands onto her scalp. The water sinks into her curly blonde tendrils, slowly making their way down until they reach her forehead, where it drips back into the lake. Madge repeats the motion a few more times, gently massaging the dirt out of her hair, though without shampoo, she isn’t sure how successful she’ll be. While her fingers gently rubbing circles into her scalp does feel nice, it doesn’t really lessen her headache, and Madge can’t help but worry. She may not be a doctor, but even Madge knows an untreated concussion can have...unpleasant side effects.

“Good haul?” a gruff voice from besides her asks, pulling Madge from her health speculations.

“I’d say so,” Madge answers, trying up her wet hair into a bun with a hair tie around her wrist. She looks up to see Gale staring at the lake, something that looks like a tangle of rope in his hands. “Bristel and I found a few apples. I was about to wash them.”

Gale snaps his gaze to her, silver eyes wide in surprise.

“ _ Apples _ ?” Gale splutters. “You found  _ apples _ ?!”

“Um, yes?” Madge answers hesitantly, her thoughts flying to ridiculous conclusions. Were the apple’s poisonous or something?

“Unbelievable…” Gale shakes his head. “My Dad promised me he’d take me to the Apple Tree when it was in bloom, but died before he got the chance to. I’ve been looking for it all these years, and you found it in a  _ day _ .”

“I could take you to it, if you want,” Madge offers to him. Day before yesterday, she would have only been able to sympathize with Gale’s loss. Now, she could sadly empathize.

Gale isn’t able to answer, because two young boys run up to him, their grubby hands filled with frantic earthworms.

“Here’re your worms mister!” one of the boys informs Gale, showing off his missing front teeth with his wide smile.

The other boy, shyer, just thrusts his hands forward, but looks pleased with himself.

“Worms?” Madge asks, trying to keep the disgust out of her voice. Insects and her do  _ not _ mix.

“Yes princess,  _ worms _ ,” Gale answers. “They’re the perfect bait for fish.”

Of course. Madge feels dumb for asking, and pulls the apples out of her pack before Gale snaps at her for being too sheltered or something. It’s not her fault Katniss didn’t teach her fishing.

As she washes the apples, Rory and Thom make their way over. The former looking absolutely miserable, and the latter with his trademark lopsided grin.

“I need you two to tie these worms all over the net,” Gale instructs them as soon as they're within earshot, handing Thom the net. “Make sure not to tie them too tightly, or they’ll tear.” Madge has to physically suppress herself from gagging.

Thom must have noticed her discomfort because he laughs, and nudges her calf with his boot. “You look awfully excited Madge, you sure you don’t wanna trade jobs?”

“Stop acting like an idiot!” Gale suddenly shouts, making Madge drop an apple into the water in shock. “Hell’s teeth, we’re trying to survive out here, not flirt with the first girl you see!”

“Wha?” Thom scrunches up his face in confusion. “I’m pretty sure the first girl I saw was my Mam.”

“Thom is  _ not _ flirting with me,” Madge insists, angry that Gale would make such a baseless assumption, and not even bother to clarify if it's correct or not. “So mind your own business, Hawthorne.”

Gale glares at her, but Thom cuts him off before he can speak.

“Actually, the first girl I saw might’ve been the midwife,” Thom muses. “And I’m like, 90% sure I haven’t flirted with her. Yet. Who knows what the future holds?”

“Oh would you all shut up?!” Rory cries, flinging the worms he was handed down. The worms do a happy dance at their sudden freedom from captivity. “Gale, I deserved that bow and arrow, you know I did!”

Gale runs a tired hand down his face and Madge’s fallen apple has finally floated back up to the lake’s surface.

“Rory, how many times do I have to say this, the only reason why Frank got the bow and not you is because he had better aim,” Gale explains exasperatedly. “So stop acting like such a baby!”

“Whatever,” Rory responds sullenly, scooping back the poor worms once more. “Let’s just get these damn worms in the water.”

“Attitude,” Gale growls, but Rory ignores him

“Hey, wait up!” Thom calls after the quickly retreating Rory, gathering the large net into his arms so he doesn’t trip over it as he runs after him.

Gale makes his way to leave too, but Madge isn’t done with him.

“Where do you get off?” Madge demands. She’s still on her knees, and their already large height difference is even further exaggerated, but Madge pays that no mind. “Implying that Thom was  _ flirting  _ with me of all things?”

“Because he was- _ is _ !” Gale quickly corrects himself, looking angry all over again. “And this isn’t the time for that crap!”

The apple has been floating away from her all this time, so Madge has to stretch her arm out to grab it. She adds with the rest of the washed ones, and stands up.

“I’ll be the one that decides what I do with my time, thank you very much,” Madge coolly informs him. “But rest assured, that the welfare of this group is my only priority.”

Gale looks caught between wanting to shout more and actually looking bashful. He decides to go with neither, and his face becomes indifferent.

“As if I care what you do, and with who,” Gale scoffs. “As long as it doesn’t affect your gathering, I couldn’t give a damn.”

“While we’re on the topic of my schedule, I just realized I don’t really have the time to take you to that Apple Tree,” Madge says in obvious false sympathy. “So sorry about that.”

She quickly marches past him. Thom and Rory are trying the worms to the line. Rooba, the District butcher, is preparing the deer, and a couple of Madge’s women are spreading out everything they’ve gathered on a clean tarp. Madge makes her way to them and adds the apples alongside the other food.

“It isn’t much,” one of them tells her. Madge suddenly remembers where she had seen the middle-aged woman before: she was the grocer’s wife, Thalia Ovansteen. “But if we make a couple pots of stew, even if a few people don’t get everything in their bowl, they’ll still get the flavor and nutrients.”

Madge nods in agreement. “You’re probably right, any idea if there are any volunteers for making said stews?

Thalia points to a cluster of women that are standing by their pots, each doing various things. They must have evacuated the District with their things in the pots, which in hindsight was an excellent idea. “They’re waiting for Rooba to finish up with the deer and for us to divide up everything.”

Madge is about to offer her help when the ground lurched almost violently beneath her feet. She nearly falls over when a pair of small hands wrap themselves gently around her arm.

Once her dizzy spell passes, she looks down to see the concerned face of Primrose Everdeen.

“You’ve exerted yourself,” Prim says both firmly and kindly. “You need to rest, you’re still concussed.”

“Don’t you worry, dear,” Thalia assures her. The other women beside her nod empathetically. “We got everything under control.”

“Alright,” Madge says weakly, allowing herself to be lead under a shady tree by Prim.

“Here,” Prim says once they’re seated, pulling out a plant that looks like a daisy from her bag. “It’s a feverfew, it’s been used for centuries to treat headaches. I’m going to grind it up and mix it in some water for you to drink, ok?”

Madge leans herself slowly against the tree, her eyes closing heavily. She makes a small hum of agreement and hears Prim get up.

She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep until Prim is back and shaking her shoulder.

“Drink this,” Prim says gently, putting her cup to Madge’s lips. “You’ll feel better, promise.”

It tastes disgusting, but Madge isn’t really in a position to be picky, so she downs the concoction without complaint, though she does gag a little once she’s finished.

“I know, it tastes terrible,” Prim giggles. “But it really will help.”

“I should have known that dandelions don’t make you so happy,” Madge chuckles. “You were looking for the plants you and your Mom use in your treatments, weren’t you?”

“Guilty,” Prim admits sheepishly.

“No worries,” Madge assures her. “I’m the dolt for not even thinking of asking you if you could do that.”

“Don’t say that!” Prim gasps. “You’re not a dolt, you did great today, really!”

Madge just smiles at the sweet girl as she takes in her appearance. She looks a bit ragged, her wheat blonde hair pulled back in a messy braid, and glassy blue eyes wide in reassurance. She doesn’t look anything like Katniss, and yet there’s something about the young girl in front of Madge, that is just so  _ Everdeen _ , that even if Madge can’t place it, she knows without doubt that this frail little girl is Katniss’s sister.

“Are you thinking about Katniss?” Prim asks her softly, her pretty face sinking back into the sadness Madge had seen on it earlier.

“How did you know?” Madge asks, wondering if she’s really that easy to read.

Prim just shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Madge purses her lips and thinks for a moment, before holding out her arms. If Prim doesn’t want to take comfort in Madge’s embrace, then she would never force her to, but if she does, then Madge is more than happy to comply.

Prim hesitates for a moment, before leaning over and letting Madge wrap her arms over her small frame. She’s stiff for a few moments, before her muscles tighten even further and then relax, small whimpers escape the back of her throat.

“Shh,” Madge consoles the now crying Prim, trying hard herself not to cry, as her mind replays her favorite memories of her friend. She and Katniss in the lunchroom, looking over Madge’s flashcards together. She and Katniss walking to class together, silent, but meeting gazes in equal exasperation as a rowdy boy cuts in front of them suddenly. Teaching her the piano. Playing the piano for her. Letting her doze off on her shoulder as they sat next to the bubbling brook. “Katniss loved you so much. She would be happy that you have the chance of having a bright life in front of you now.”

This makes Prim cry more, but her arms come up to grip Madge tightly, so Madge continues.

“You could be a Doctor. Get married, and have kids that wouldn’t have to worry about being reaped,” Madge lists all the possibilities that are now open to Prim that were once impossible. “I know it hurts. It hurts so bad. It makes my chest hurt. But that’s what they want, right? For us to live on.”

She isn’t sure if she’s speaking to Prim or herself anymore, and she doesn’t really care. She pulls Prim closer to her, and finds that the close contact comforts her more than the gross feverfew plant.

“You’re right,” comes Prim’s muffled response from between them. “K-Katniss would be happy.”

After a few minutes, Prim stops crying, and slowly untangles herself from Madge’s hold. Madge runs a loving hand down her hair.

Someone clears their throat, and Madge looks up to find Mrs. Everdeen staring at her with an unreadable expression on her pale face.

“Thank you for the tea,” Madge tells Prim quickly. Mrs. Everdeen’s words from the night of the bombing still hang uncomfortably between them, and Madge doesn’t want to be in the presence of that hollow woman any longer than she needs to be. “I have some...things I need to do.”

Prim looks confused at her hasty departure but nods. “Ok, see you later?

“Of course,” Madge smiles, but quickly shoulders her pack. She nods politely at Mrs. Everdeen, whose eyes follow her every move, and quickly leaves the shady tree.

“Oh, wait!” Prim calls after her, pulling out a small tin from her bag. “This is a salve I made for Gale’s ribs, just rub it in before he goes to sleep tonight.”

“Sure,” Madge says, taking the tin hastily, not even realizing what Prim just asked her to do.

She decides to take a walk, since she doesn’t actually have anything to do. The women have begun cooking, and there are a couple of men that are gutting the fish Thom and Rory caught under Gale’s supervision.

Ugh. The sight of Gale annoys her all over again. He really has no concept of subtlety. Or emotional maturity.

Madge sighs in frustration. Gale  _ is _ emotionally mature, he just hates her. She isn’t sure what’s worse.

“Hi Sissy!” Posy suddenly greets her, pulling Madge out of her gloomy thoughts. Hazelle is next to the girl, smiling, but also looking concerned.

“We missed you this morning,” Hazelle says, her gaze almost accusatory. Madge looks at her shoes uncomfortably. “I tried to look for you, but it’s like you disappeared.” 

“Must have been in the back,” Madge fibs guiltily. “Lot’s of people,” she adds lamely.

“Of course,” Hazelle says in a voice that let’s Madge know that she isn’t buying it. “Anywho, I managed to snag a rather nice tarp.”

“Oh,” Madge hadn’t even thought of getting herself a tarp. A quick scan of the camp lets her know there aren’t any extra ones for her to take. Great.

“What’s with that look?” Hazelle asks with a raised brow. “You’ll be sleeping with us, of course.”

“Well, that’s, I-” Madge stammers. Does this woman really not realize how much her son detests Madge?

“Look at you!” Hazelle cries. “Running around with a concussion! Go on and lie down, I’ll bring you some food as soon it’s ready.”

“Posy, take Madge over to our spot,” Hazelle instructs the little girl.

“Ok!” Posy takes Madge’s hand and begins to lead her away.

“What’a concussion, Sissy?” Posy asks as she skips alongside Madge, pigtails bouncing with each step.

“I don’t think you should call me Sissy,” Madge sighs. “You can call me Madge.”

Posy pouts. “Katniss was too scary to call Sissy, and Prim is fun to say. And I can’t call Vick sissy, even though he acts like one.”

The large, pleading eyes, paired with the pouty lips are too much for Madge, so she holds up her free hand in defeat. “Ok, ok! You can call me Sissy.”

“Yay!” Posy cheers. Madge can’t help but smile at this. This girl is too cute for her own good, really.

“Viiick,” Posy calls out to her older brother, who is trying with great difficulty to make a house out of cards. Madge tries to envision the young boy deciding to bring a pack of cards with him when he’s told his District is about to be bombed. Oh, to be a child again.

“Whaaat,” Vick replies in the same voice as Posy, not looking up from his cards.

“I brought Sissy!”

At this, Vick looks up quickly and smiles. Madge hadn’t noticed in the dark last night, but he’s missing a bottom tooth.

“Oh, hi Madge!” Vick greets her. “Wanna play cards? Posy keeps making up own rules.”

“Do not!” Posy stomps her foot and folds her arms across her chest angrily.

“Sure,” Madge answers, even though she wants nothing more than to take a nap. “But Posy has to play too.”

Vick doesn’t look happy at this but doesn’t argue. Posy  _ does _ make up her own rules, and watching Vick fume and argue with her is actually more entertaining than the actual game. Madge begins to make up her own rules as well, which Vick was initially deeply offended over, before the boy had an epiphany and began making up his own rules.

By the time Hazelle and Rory return, their card game is mostly just the three of them giggling madly as they try to make sense of the mess that their game has turned into.

“Here you go,” Hazelle gives Madge and Posy a bowl each of stew, while taking one from Rory. Rory gives the other bowl to Vick before returning to the suddenly formed line to get a bowl for himself.

Madge got deer stew, and finds with delight a piece of an apple floating in the brown water. There aren’t any utensils, so she has to put the bowl to her mouth and awkwardly bite the meat. The four of them are eating away happily when Rory, this time accompanied by Gale, joins them.

“Why are you here?” Gale snaps at her as he takes a seat.

“Because it isn’t safe for a young woman to be alone, especially once it’s dark,” Hazelle says sternly, her silver eyes flashing.

“Then go over to Thom, he’s your boyfriend after all,” Gale grouses impatiently. “You’re not my headache.”

Hazelle’s mouth falls open. Rory rolls his eyes, and Vick looks up from his bowl in confusion. Posy is too busy eating to pay any attention to the conversation.

“Thom is  _ not _ my boyfriend!” Madge hisses in mortification.

“Well you certainly act like he is!” Gale shouts.

“Enough!” Hazelle interjects loudly. “Gale, what on Earth is wrong with you? If the girl says he isn’t her boyfriend, he isn’t! Now shut your yap, respect Madge, and drink that stew before I whoop you!”

“Gale, how can Madge have a boyfriend?” Vick asks his brother seriously. “Wouldn’t the cooties have killed her?”

“Oh she has them alright,” Rory tells him darkly. “And I made her spit in your bowl before giving it to you!”

“What?” Vick cries, though he still holds on to his bowl. “Madge, did you spit in my bowl?!”

“No Vick,” Madge answers tiredly. “I did not spit in your bowl.”  Vick doesn’t look too convinced, but continues eating nevertheless. 

The rest of the meal continues without any accusations or banter, which Madge is thankful for. The blend Prim had given her along with the stew had certainly helped Madge, but she was exhausted and her head still hurt.

Hazelle laid out the tarp and Madge finds herself on the left end, next to Hazelle. Posy lies next to her Mom, then Vick, and then Rory, ending with Gale on the opposite end of the tarp, his bow and quiver placed possessively by his feet.

The ground is uncomfortable beneath her back, the muggy air feels like it’s suffocating her, and she’s terribly paranoid that insects will crawl all over her any moment. But what keeps sleep tethered from her is the dark.

Eyes open or closed, everything is dark, and it fills Madge with red hot panic. It had been dark when the bombs had fell. Her parents had been in the dark when they died, with the fires that ate them alive the only light present. She can’t see where she must go in the dark, she can’t see who she must be.

She sits up, hiding her face in her hands, as she focuses on not hyperventilating. The last thing she needs are the Hawthorne’s waking up to find her in the middle of a psychotic episode.

“Undersee.”

Madge lifts her face to see Gale also sitting up. The moon is behind her, so his face is illuminated in the silver light. He’s frowning.

“What is it,” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like a statement instead of a question.

Madge sighs. Sending Gale down as her therapist? Cruel, universe. Cruel.

“Nothing,” Madge murmurs. “Just a headache.”

Gale is about to say something when she suddenly remembers.

“Oh!” Madge gasps. “I was supposed to give this to you.”

She pulls Prim’s tin from her pack and gets up to walk it over to Gale.

“Here,” she says, handing the tin to a confused Gale. “Prim made a salve for your ribs.” “Ah,” Gale nods. “Right.”

He pulls his shirt over his head and unscrews the tin. Madge suddenly feels awkward just standing there, but she isn’t ready to be left alone with her thoughts again.

“Um, actually, I have to apply it,” Madge stops him quickly. Technically that  _ is _ what Prim said, besides, she  _ is _ the reason why he got hurt, this is the least she can do.

“I don’t think so,” Gale says cooly, dipping his fingers in the salve. He hisses as his fingers come in contact with his discolored skin.

“You’ll heal faster if you relax and let someone rub it in,” Madge explains. “You have to twist your torso to reach which is putting a strain on the muscles.”

Gale frowns as he considers her logic.

“ _ Fine _ ,” he agrees snappishly. “Just don’t do a shit job.”

“Of course,” Madge says agreeably as she rolls her eyes. She dips her fingers into the salve and finds it pleasantly cool. Gale’s settled down and stares resolutely at the sky. Right, she hadn’t really considered how  _ this  _ might be awkward.

“ _ It’s all medical _ ,” Madge tells herself. “ _ No big deal. _ ”

And for a while, it is.  Gale grimaces and winces as she gently rubs in the salve, but as she moves to the less tender areas, he relaxes beneath her fingers, and his eyes begin to droop. Under normal circumstances, Madge would have grown flustered at not only looking at, but actually touching the warm, smooth skin of Gale’s torso, which is a testament to the fact that the male physique can be a  _ very  _ beautiful thing, but the ugly bruise taunts her, and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, so she moves her gaze to his face. Under the moonlight his peaceful features are beautiful, from his straight nose to his strong jaw. His eyelashes brush his high cheekbones, and his full lips are just barely parted. His thick eyebrows, which are normally furrowed, are relaxed, and rest on his perfectly convex forehead. Gale may have many flaws, but none whatsoever are tied to his looks.

“Enjoying the view?” Gale asks suddenly, though his eyes remain closed. Madge curses herself, she should have known his super hunter instincts would have alerted him that she was staring.

“More like envying it,” Madge jokes. “Your face is almost perfectly symmetrical, did you know that?”

“If you’re asking do I know I’m breathtakingly handsome, the answer is yes,” Gale smirks, cracking open an eye to look at her.

Madge rolls her eyes. Rory must be rubbing off on her.

“Alright ‘handsome’, I’m done,” Madge tells him, twisting the lid back on. “I’ll leave this with you.”

Gale grunts and closes his eye again. Madge is about to get up before she realizes too late, they have no plans for breakfast.

“Gale,” Madge whispers, not wanting Hazelle who is no doubt eavesdropping to overhear and worry. “What are we going to do for breakfast?”

“Relax Princess, you won’t starve” Gale taunts. “We left enough stew so that everyone can get half a bowl tomorrow.”

“You need to stop doing that,” Madge tells him sternly. “You need to stop painting me as a selfish, useless, ‘princess’ that doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. I don’t care if you hate me, but you can’t treat me like this.”

Madge gets up without giving him an opportunity to respond, and lies stiffly back down in her spot. Her eyes well with tears as she remembers how lonely she was, the untouchable Mayor’s daughter, who no one dared to approach. At least back then she still had two parents who loved her immeasurably. Now she was totally alone in the world, and the world didn’t seem to like her too much.

Madge jumps at the feel of a hand on her shoulder, and looks over to see Hazelle staring at her, her silver eyes concerned.

Hazelle doesn’t say anything as she runs her hand down Madge’s arm until she reaches her hand, which she clasps tightly. Hazelle’s hand is tough and lined with callouses, but it’s the nicest thing Madge has felt all day, right after Prim’s hug. She wonders if Hazelle has some maternal intuition that told her how Madge is feeling.

Regardless, with her hand held tightly in Hazelle’s, the staggering fear that the darkness cloaked her in slowly lightens. She’s able to focus on other things, like the rock digging into her back, the hum of crickets in the air, and how there are so many stars in the sky it feels like every time she blinks, a new one is added.

The lull Prim’s remedy had provided has worn off, and Madge closes her eyes as her head pulses in pain. Just as she’s sure she won’t be able to sleep in such pain, her mind is suddenly drowsy, and it’s hard to form a single coherent thought.

Madge doesn’t even time to question what’s going on before she’s asleep.

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ !”

Madge’s eyes flutter open to a pink dawn sky. The beautiful sunrise is a sharp contrast to the fuming Gale in front of her, who paces frantically as he savagely kicks a stick out of his way.

Madge sits up next to Hazelle, who’s already up, and watching her son with concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Madge asks quietly, dread pooling in her stomach.

“The pots are empty.”

Madge gasps at this implication. She sweeps her gaze across the still sleeping camp.

There is a thief amongst them. One that doesn’t care if they damn the entire District to starvation.

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say that I don't have a beta, and though I try to proofread as best as I can, there will inevitably be spelling mistakes, grammatical errors. If you see any, please let me know so that I can correct them! Hope you enjoyed.


	6. The Hunt

With a shared look, both Gale and Madge are able to agree silently that any further discussion would have to be done somewhere more private. The kids are still asleep, but Gale looks as if he may blow up any moment.

"We'll be back," Gale lets Hazelle know as he ducks in between the trees, Madge right behind him, though not before Hazelle shots her a half quizzical, half amused look. How odd.

They don't speak as they walk. Madge is still blinking sleep out of her eyes, finding it harder than usual to wake herself up. Must be a side effect of the concussion, which, while vastly healed, still hurts.

Gale leads her to a meadow, and Madge's eyes widen at the peaceful beauty of it. The grass looks vibrant and inviting, with the entire color spectrum sown into the soft ground in the form of springy wildflowers that flutter in the sweet morning air. The vibrant chromatic dawn almost pouring its color and warmth into the meadow below it.

"Oh," is all Madge can say as she takes in the scene before her. If the Lake had looked like an oil painting, then the meadow was a poem that had had life breathed into it, every blade of grass a different sonnet, every flower another stanza of romance.

"Yeah," Gale agrees quietly. Madge looks up to see that the anger that had been boiling within him had simmered down, and all that was left was exhaustion. He steps into the meadow, flowers kissing his ankles as he walks, and sinks deeply into the plush grass. Madge seats herself next to him and burrows her hands into the dewy, sweet-smelling ground.

"We'll catch the thief," Madge tells him encouragingly, touching his arm with her now damp hand. His muscles tense beneath her palm, and she quickly removes her hand.

"And then what?" Gale asks tiredly. He's begun to grow a stubble, and the dark smudges under his eyes betray his lethargy. He looks much older than his age at this moment, and Madge wistfully imagines a world where Gale could have been a 19-year old that didn't have to worry about providing for 800 people. "Whip them?"

Madge recoils at his words almost instinctively. Suddenly, Gale's cries of pains, followed by whimpers of agony flood her ear channels, and all Madge can see is the white of Gale's shoulder blade, poking through the angry red flesh of his tortured back.

She has to shut her eyes to stop the awful feeling of hopelessness she had felt that day crash back into her. She had just stood there in the square, watching the man she loved, whipped nearly to death, helpless and unable to do a single thing, all title's of Mayor's daughter damned straight to hell.

"Undersee!" Madge opens her eyes to find herself being shaken by a frowning Gale. "I've been saying your name for the past two minutes."

"Sorry," she croaks, her throat still mostly closed. "Just remembering...stuff."

"Stuff?" Gale asks, his frown deepening. Then, his eyebrows fly up in realization. "You were there. That day with...Thread."

Madge can only nod.

"Hell's teeth," Gale mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"That's why…" Gale trails off, looking at Madge very closely. "That's why you brought me the morphling?"

Madge looks up to the sky, which is no longer pink and gold, but a soft blue with a fading red. Is this the time, or the place to confess her feelings? And if she is to do that, does she explain it's more than just an infatuation- that a corner of her mind is always thinking about him, since that day he first showed up on her doorstep years ago with Katniss, a scowl and bucket of strawberries the only thing on his person? Does she tell him since that first encounter, she watched him carefully, and learned that beneath that billowing anger, was a boy who loved his family fiercely, and whose gray eyes were tinted with the visionary of a revolutionary? Does she tell him his ache for a different world had settled between her bones as well, and that's why she gave Katniss the pin that belonged to her murdered Aunt?

Madge shakes her head. This is certainly isn't the place, despite its gorgeous setting, and she isn't sure if there ever will be a time. Not while she is consumed by the grief of being orphaned, and Gale's heart still belongs to Katniss.

"Gale, you and I, and everyone here has lived under a tyrant's rule for all of our lives," Madge says evasively. "Lightning never strikes twice- trying to intimidate everyone with power and fear will only lead to a backlash."

"You need to go up there and tell them what happened last night, but not to scare them from any consequences of being caught, but to remind them that no one can do this alone; that we need to get rid of the 'every man for himself', individualistic mindset, that we have all been brainwashed into adopting."

Gale has an unreadable expression when Madge finishes talking, and she wonders if she's said something egregiously stupid or wrong.

"You're not like what I thought you were," Gale suddenly admits.

"You mean an airheaded priss?"

Gale has the decency to cringe. "Well, not that exactly. But what I mean is that I never knew you were so smart."

Madge shakes her head in refutation. "I'm not smart," she explains. "I just keep quiet and watch those around me. You learn a lot that way. Smart is coming up with things without having to do that"

"Sounds pretty smart to me," Gale insists. "And something I should so myself."

"Wouldn't work," Madge chuckles. "With you quiet, there wouldn't be anyone worth listening to."

Gale tilts his head at this and frowns, and Madge mentally scolds herself once more for complimenting him so blatantly. Here she was scoffing at Gale's subtlety while she herself had the discretion of an intoxicated blind man.

"Anyways," Madge quickly steers the conversation back to the original matter at hand. "Are we in agreement on what you need to say?

"We are," he answers slowly. "I just...What if being Mr. Nice Guy just further encourages the thief? After all, it's only fear of being reprimanded that stops people from breaking the law."

"Is it?" Madge muses. "I think no one particularly wishes to be unlawful, they're just pushed to the point of desperation where they'll do anything to survive. And if you have to break the law to survive, those laws weren't very just in the first place, were they? We only have one rule in our camp: from each according to his ability, to each according to his need, and I hardly find that repressive. No, whoever is the thief, they aren't desperate: they're selfish, and must be reminded that selfishness will only doom you out here."

Gale says nothing to this, no doubt thinking of his own experience with lawbreaking.

Madge is about to encourage him once more when she realizes something herself: there were several large pots, all of which had been emptied. Could one person really eat that much? It had to be at least two or three adults, which made no sense. She could imagine a sole thief, alone and unfaithful, greedily eating the food, but a group of thieves? They'd be better off stealing Gale's bow and running off with supplies, instead of sticking around hungrily as they waited for the camp to scrape together a new meal.

"Well, let's get this over with then," Gale sighs, cutting off Madge's train of thought. Should she tell Gale about her theory? She decides against it; it doesn't matter if there is one thief or a hundred, right?

Still, she remains unsettled all the way back to the camp. Why would the thieves finish off the food completely, if they knew that that would leave them without breakfast and lunch the next day?

"Attention!" Gale bellows, standing atop of a boulder with his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice, formally waking the entirety of the camp.

"There has been a theft," Gale tells everyone somberly once they've all crowded in front of him. "Someone ate all the food that was supposed to be our breakfast today."

The camp collectively gasps, immediately followed by angry shouts and terrified questions.

"How do we know you didn't use us and gave your family our hard earned food!" a man shouts loud enough to be heard over the commotion. Madge recognizes the stout man: Richard Nicon, he was a clerk at the Justice Building.

"Why would I waste my time and energy into teaching strangers how to hunt, when I could have easily hunted enough to feed my family?" Gale nearly shouts, his body shaking with anger once more. Madge steps forward and gently touches his calf. His gray eyes flash to her, but soften when she shakes her head.

"There's no use in playing the blame game. The fact is, no one but the thief knows who the perpetrator is," Gale continues, putting visible effort into keeping his voice level. "I had been hoping to pack camp and begin traveling to 13 today, but we can't do that on empty stomachs. Tonight we'll set up shifts for people to watch over the supplies and head out tomorrow."

"And you," Gale points to a still angry Nicon. "Can take first shift, and even choose who takes the second one."

"Who put you in charge?" Nicon sneers, obviously unhappy at the extra labor assigned to him, but unable to complain about it.

"Yeah," a man Madge doesn't recognize agrees. "We haven't been out here for a day, and shit is already going downhill! Maybe we'd be better off on our own!"

"You answer to only one thing in the woods: death," Gale asserts above the angry man's claim. "If we succumb to chaos now, trust me, it won't be long till most of you will be following her every whim and command."

"I'm not standing up here because I want to be revered as a leader, or a hero," Gale explains. "I'm up here because not only is it the right thing to do, but the most logical one at that. We can overcome this setback, but only if we see each other as equals."

No one can oppose egalitarianism without sounding like a Capitol infiltrator, so everyone more or less agrees with what Gale said, though there are mostly disappointed, angry, and above all fearful faces staring up at him. Once more, the peculiarity of the situation unsettles Madge. Stealing from the camp is literally stealing from your future self. Unless...Madge looks around the camp and quickly discards the idea, of course, the thief was from their camp. Who else could it be?

"The snares set out yesterday should have caught some squirrels and rabbits," Gale tries to mollify. "Children and the Elderly can be fed that while we scavenge for more food today."

With that Gale steps off the boulder and makes his way to where his bow is. Madge's gatherers from yesterday begin to gather around her, looking more confident than they had yesterday, despite today's bad news.

"Let's take about 10 before we head out. Alright?" Madge asks everyone and is met with affirming nods. "Alright, then."

Madge makes her way back to the Hawthorne's tarp and is met with Hazelle holding her spare clothes in her hands.

"I was going to do some laundry today," Hazelle explains. "Why don't you go on and change into these so I can wash what you're wearing?"

"Thank you, I would really appreciate that," Madge tells her honestly. Hazelle just waves her off, and Madge makes her way into the woods that's designated as the female 'relieving' spot.

She really is grateful, wearing the same pantie for two days straight was starting to really gross her out. She used a hole dug by the ever generous 'holey' man, using lake water in her flask to clean herself, before changing into her new clothes.

Tying her hair into a ponytail, Madge hands her soiled clothes to Hazelle with one more grateful smile before jogging over to her gatherers. She quickly realizes that jogging was not a good idea, and immediately slows her pace to a sluggish walk. Ugh, talk about scrambling her already scrambled brain.

Like yesterday, Madge introduces new plants that can be eaten, and answers any questions about whether or not a plant was one she had given the ok for gathering. Unlike yesterday, she had a special task for her special friend.

"You want me to what?" Bristel asks confusedly, wrinkling her nose.

"Just look for anything unusual or out of place," Madge repeats. "Anything that looks different than it did yesterday."

"Are you realizing what you're asking me to do?" Bristel demands. "That's impossible! I may have a photographic memory, but I can't possibly look at every leaf to see if it's 'different' from yesterday Besides, why do you want me to."

"Look," Madge says in a low voice. "It must have been a few people that had eaten the food and I doubt all of them could have been so quiet that no one woke up and caught them. All I'm saying is maybe they came out into the woods to eat, and we should look around for any...incriminating evidence."

"Or maybe," Bristel speculates sarcastically. "They were just hungry, and didn't analyze and plan their every step like how you do, and ate the damn stew."

Madge knows it's childish and petulant to do so, but she immediately withdraws from Bristel. It's a defense mechanism of her's, to close herself off once offended.

"Fine," Madge says coolly, walking quicker than Bristel to put some distance between them. Madge knows she's being unreasonable, but at the same time, she's cursing herself for not keeping her usual wariness of strangers with Bristel.

"Do not tell me you're actually mad," Bristel growls, easily catching up to Madge.

"I'm not," Madge sniffs, lying.

Bristel rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on Madge," she hedges. "I'm your friend, alright? I'm not here to pick on the Mayor's girl."

"I was not picked on!" Madge defends herself, face flaming. Is this her reputation around the District?

"No, you weren't," Bristel agrees. "Because no one was bold enough to approach you. So you began to wall yourself off. Because it's easier to be alone when it's your choice to be so."

Madge feels annoyed at being psychoanalyzed so closely, but everything Bristel's said is the truth.

"I'm sorry," Madge apologizes. "And you're right. I'm not good at this friend thing."

"Maybe you should practice with Thom," Bristel suggests with an eye roll. "Lord knows that moron doesn't know how to act around others either."

Madge laughs, and the rest of the gathering is spent without any further thief talk, though it weighs on Madge heavily the entire time. Their haul today is sadly smaller than yesterday's, but Madge is confident that it will still be enough, if just barely, to feed everyone.

Someone from Gale's group must have brought back the squirrel's the snares had caught while Madge's group was still out, because a scattering of children and the elderly (which, in 12, isn't really all that old) are eating. Madge smiles at the sight of Vick and Posy sitting with other Seam kids, happily munching away. Speaking of Seam kids, Madge looks around and finds Prim on the outskirt of her group, plucking a flower Madge doesn't recognize. Probably medicinal, Madge guesses.

She decides to leave the little girl be and adds her gathering to the haul tarp, where Thalia and a few other women begin their work of dividing and cleaning once more.

"I'll be back," she tells Bristel, who decides to stay today to help with the organizing of foods.

Maybe it's a leftover habit of her Merchant days, but Madge detests being dirty, and walks over to the lake to give herself a quick wipe down.

The lack of breakfast is beginning to catch up to her, the few berries Madge had snuck long digested, and she slowly crouches by the Lake's edge, just taking a moment to look at her reflection as she waits for the hunger pain to pass.

With her hair tied back, it's hard to tell how messy it is, though the loose part of her hair is bushier than it's ever been, her natural curls, which are in manageable waves usually, have become errant coils that will be no doubt very painful to untangle. She's managed to keep her face clean of dirt, despite sleeping on the ground with only a tarp as a barrier, but despite that, there's something...wild about her reflection, as if in just a few days she's transformed from the Mayor's daughter to a woman of the woods: strong and resilient. She wonders if Katniss found the same transformation in her features the first time she returned from the woods.

Madge shakes her head. She's being silly. She's a 17-year-old girl that's been almost pathetically sheltered all her life, with her greatest woe growing up loneliness.

She's about to dip her cupped hands into the water when she catches a glance of her sock. She falls back onto her bottom as she brings her ankle up for closer inspection. Her thick corduroy's had been switched for sturdier cotton pants, which ended about two inches above her ankle, exposing her mid-calf white socks.

Her white socks that had ash smudged onto them.

It was impossible for them to have coal dust on them: she hadn't worn them during the bombing, and her pack had been tightly latched, no dust or ash had gotten in. Which means her sock had gotten ashen today, which is also supposed to be impossible because she hasn't been anywhere near the fires from last night.

Her sock had gotten ash on it sometime during her time the woods today.

Madge ran over to Bristel, even though just jogging earlier that morning had made her nauseous.

"Bristel," Madge says urgently, drawing her friend's attention away from her work. "I need- we um, there's something I need to show you."

The older women look at them curiously, but Bristel seems to pick up on what Madge is trying to convey and stands up quickly.

"Everything alright?" a Seam woman asks Madge, frowning worriedly.

"Everything is fine," Madge assures her, and everyone listening. "I just need a second opinion on something."

"What's going on?" Bristel asks, as soon as they're out of earshot. Madge just nods her head, there are still too many ears that may catch wind of what they're talking about.

"Woods first," is all she says, and Bristel huffs but follows after her regardless.

They've just entered the tree line when they come face to face with Gale's grinning group. Three men are carrying what Madge assumes are three wild dogs. Madge tries not to let the churning of her stomach show on her face.

"We're eating good tonight!" one of the men hoots, a few more hollering in agreement. It seems Madge's disdain for dog is not shared.

The men walk around her and Bristel, but Gale stops in front of them. Madge can see that two of his bows in his quiver are stained red. It doesn't surprise her that he took down two-thirds of the game caught, even while injured.

"Going back into the woods?" Gale asks, frowning as he no doubt notices that neither girl has a pack on her.

"I needed to talk to Bristel about something," Madge answers honestly. At Gale's questioning look, she adds a lie. "Girl stuff."

This quickly shuts off his curiosity and he hurriedly makes his way back to the camp.

"Men," Bristel says amusedly. Madge can't help but grin in agreement.

"Men," Madge agrees.

She considers taking Bristel to the meadow but changes her mind at the last minute. There's something special about that place, and it just seems wrong to share it with someone other than Gale.

Instead, they stop at a fallen tree and settle themselves the horizontal log.

Madge sticks out her left foot. "I have ash on my sock."

Bristel gapes at her incredulously.

 _"Did you bring me out here to discus_ s laundry?" Bristel nearly shouts, face red in anger.

"No!" Madge exclaims. "Think, Bristel! I put these on this morning and they were totally white. I haven't been anywhere near the fire spots in the camp, which means I got this on my ankle while we were out gathering. Why would there be ash in the woods?"

Bristel is quiet as she processes Madge's words.

"You think the thief set up a fire out here?" Bristel finally asks.

Madge nods vigorously. "If we retrace our steps I'm sure we can find the spot, now that we know what we're looking for."

"And then what?" Bristel asks. "What good will a bunch of ash do us?"

Madge deflates at this. She hadn't thought that far.

"It's not much," Madge admits. "But it's our only lead. I really think we should look into this."

"Fine," Bristel sighs. "I'll help. But you owe me."

Madge smirks, Seam people really do see life as one long barter. "You can take the girl out of the Seam, but not the Seam out of the girl, huh?"

"Oh hush up."

They don't talk after that, carefully retracing their every step from today's gathering trail, eyes practically glued to the ground. They both ate a few acorns to help stave off the hunger, though it didn't help much.

Her headache has returned with vicious revenge and Madge is close to just throwing up her hands and calling quits when Bristel shouts triumphantly.

"Look at these leaves!" Bristel points excitedly to a seasonally uncharacteristic pile of green leaves on the ground. A few of them have smudges of black. Both girls share an excited look before dropping to their knees and moving the leaves out of the way.

It's a scattering of ashes.

"We found it!" Madge cries out happily. Bristel grins at her widely.

The excitement dies down a little and Madge takes in her surroundings. They aren't too far from the camp, in fact, she can make out some people between the trees just a few yards away from her. Why would the thieves set up a fire here, where the likelihood of being caught was so high?

"Ah, hell."

"What is it?" Madge asks, and looks at what Bristel is staring it. A tree.

"It's a Sleep Hollow," Bristel answers in a small voice. "Look," she beckons Madge further towards the tree and points to its bark. "Normal tree bark has vertical lines in 'em. The Sleepy Hollow has curvy, horizontal ones."

Madge frowns as she tries to remember where she's heard the name Sleepy Hollow before. It seems eerily familiar, but she can't quite place it.

"It was in one of the games, a few years back," Bristel explains, her eyes panicked. "When it's leaves are burned, it's smoke knocks out anyone that breathes it in."

"And look," Bristel continues, pointing up. "Someone cut a branch off." Sure enough, a branch is cut from the middle, the cut too clean to be written off as an animal tearing it. Someone had used a knife to cut it.

Oh, God.

"So what you're saying," Madge says shakily. "Is that someone not only found and recognized a Capitol creation, but they used it's abilities to knock out our entire camp last night, and took all our food?

"You were right," Bristel whispers, a sudden breeze blowing her hair away from her face, exposing her terrified expression completely.

"That doesn't matter," Madge reassures her friend. "What matters is that the thief hasn't outsmarted us. We'll catch them. Tonight, when they don't expect it."

The panic leaves Bristel's eyes and is replaced with determination.

"You're right," she says agrees. "I'll get Thom. He's an idiot, but reliable."

"Ok," Madge concedes. "But don't tell anyone else, alright?"

"Of course."

Madge tears a few leaves off from a low branch and stuffs them in her pocket. They quickly walk back to camp, with Bristel breaking left to retrieve Thom and Madge to the right where Gale is standing shin deep in the lake, making sure Rory and another boy are setting up the fish line correctly.

"Gale," Madge calls out as soon as she reaches the shore's edge. "Can I talk to you real quick?"

Gale turns around and frowns at her, no doubt to reject her when he catches sight of the worry on her face. At that, he quickly wades over.

"What is it?" he asks urgently, still standing in ankle deep water.

"It's about the thief," Madge whispers, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. It was vital that they retained the element of surprise.

"Come with me," Gale instructs, stepping out of the water and hastily pulling on his socks before slipping into his worn boots. Madge does as he says and follows him to a small enclave next to the lake, where a bunch of boulders are shoved together that almost offers them a seating place and a small wall separating them from the eyes of the camp.

Once they're seated, Madge pulls out the leaves from her pocket.

"These are from the Sleepy Hollow tree," Madge quickly explains. "Bristel and I found the tree right next to an ash pile. We think the thief burned the leaves, and the smoke knocked everyone out, which allowed them to get the stew so easily."

Now that Madge thought about it, she had fallen asleep almost suddenly last night, even when she thought she would have been awake the entire night.

"Sleepy Hollow?" Gale questions roughly. "What the fuck is that?"

"A tree the Capitol designed," Madge answers patiently. "When you burn its leaves, it releases a chemical that makes the person breathing it unconscious."

Gale pulls a small matchbox from his pant's pocket, and strikes a match, He holds up the small burning stick and Madge raises a leaf and lets it catch on fire.

They both watch silently as the green immediately is burned to a black, a thin trail of smoke rising up in a curly ascent.

Gale leans forward the same time as Madge does, and their foreheads nearly touch as they breathe in the smoke.

The effect is immediate. Madge's eyes droop and she wants nothing more than to take a nap. Vaguely, she's aware of Gale taking the burning leaf from her hand and tossing it into the lake beside them.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Madge's mind clears through the artificially induced sleep haze, and blinks, her once more sharp vision finding a scowling Gale.

"Son of a bitch!" Gale growls. "He was going to outsmart us again tonight!"

"But now they won't," Madge placates. "Bristel went to get Thom, between the four of us, I'm sure we can take the thieves down, regardless of how cunning they may be."

"Thieves?" Gale asks. "What makes you think it's more than one guy?"

Madge shrugs. "It's just a hunch," she admits. "How could one guy eat that much stew?"

"If it's more than one guy," Gale frowns further. "Then it probably is best if the four of us are on lookout."

"Glad we agree," Madge says, getting up carefully.

"Yeah," Gale says almost amusedly. "Who would have thought it'd take literally the end of the world for that to happen?"

"It isn't the end of the world," Madge chastises. "Just the beginning of a new one."

Gale gives her an undecipherable look but doesn't say anything. They both return to the main part of camp silently. Rooba had been quick in preparing the dog's because today's stews have already begun to be cooked.

Thom and Bristel are waiting for them.

"So what's the plan?" Thom asks excitedly. "Bash their heads?"

Madge gasps at his violent suggestion.

"No bashing," Gale growls. "We need to catch them in the act and confront them. If there a few of them, and they're armed, the girls can go and wake up some men for back up."

Madge frowns. Even though just moments ago the idea of hurting the thieves had made her uncomfortable, she didn't like being completely written off as a fighter, as true as it was.

"Gale Hawthorne, leader of the free people, emancipator of women," Bristel snarks, but doesn't argue with him.

"Whatever," Gale rolls his eyes. "Meet up by my family's tarp after dinner, we'll head out then."

"And be discreet," Gale adds firmly. "We don't want to tip anything off."

Everyone nods in understanding, including Madge, even though she'll already be at the tarp.

The rest of the day passes in nervous anticipation, and Madge is able to forget her hunger and most of her headache as she imagines scenario after scenario. What if someone bashes Gale's head? She glances over at his napping figure worriedly. Gale can take care of himself, and she needed to have faith in him.

After what seemed like an eternity of playing cards with Vick, Posy, and Rory, who had joined them after hanging out with Prim, it was finally dinner time. Madge stood in line herself this time, and watched hungrily as an old woman ladled the stew into her tin.

She practically inhaled her food and is the first to finish. The dog meat is tough, and little Posy is having a hard time tearing it with her small teeth.

"Why don't I rip up that meat for you?" Madge offers the little girl with a smile.

"Really Sissy?" Posy asks with wide, excited eyes, as if it's some sort of honor to have your meat torn up by Madge.

"Thank you, Madge," Hazelle says in clear relief. "I was about to do so myself."

Madge just waves her off and reaches into Posy's tin, pulling out the two large pieces of meat and ripping them into more bite-sized pieces.

When she's done, she looks up to see Gale staring at her. He looks away, but not immediately. Madge can't help but feel her face grow hot. Was he angry that she was so involved with his sister?

"Hey Madge, will you chew up Vick's food and regargitate into his mouth?" Rory snickers, only to be immediately swatted upside the head by a still eating Hazelle. You could call Hazelle a lot of things, but inefficient wasn't one of them.

"I'm only missing one tooth!" Vick exclaims indignantly. "Mrs. Everdeen says it's normal to lose them still at this age!"

"And it's  _'regurgitate',_  idiot," Gale adds. "Not 'regargitate'."

"Oh excuse me, Mr. Schoolmaster," Rory snaps. "What grade did you get in spelling again?"

Madge purses her lips but isn't able to stop her smile completely. She hopes if she ever has a family again, they're like the Hawthorne's. But as she meets Gale's gaze again, this time her looking away quickly herself, Madge knows that's impossible.

Nicon and who Madge assumes is his son have taken up their post by the pots, and Bristel and Thom take this momentary distraction to make their way over to their way over to them.

"Evening, Mrs. Hawthorne," Thom greets warmly, while Bristel just nods politely.

"What's going on here?" Hazelle asks immediately, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as Gale slings on his bow.

"We're gonna have a look out of our own," Gale tells her as he stands up. It's gotten dark now, and with the fires mostly burned out, their movements will be hard to make out.

"Why?" Hazelle questions bluntly. Rory looks like he wants to join, but one look from Gale silences him before he even says anything. Posy and Vick are already cuddled together, Posy fast asleep and Vick nearly there.

Gale just shakes his head and leans down to kiss her forehead. "We'll be fine, promise."

Hazelle doesn't look reassured, but says nothing as the four of them slink off.

Madge and Bristel lead the two boys to the Sleepy Hollow, all of them on guard and vigilant of their surroundings.

"There it is," Madge announces quietly once they reach the tree. Luckily, there's enough moonlight for her to make out the looming tree.

"You girls climb up that tree," Gale points to a tree which has a direct view of the Sleepy Hollow, but is very close to the camp. "The signal is "hell's teeth". As soon as I say that, run back into camp as quietly as you can and get help."

Had the situation been less serious Madge would have laughed at his signal choice.

Bristel is a lot taller than Madge, and is able to climb up the tree with far more ease than she can.

"Come on!" Bristel hisses. "They could get here any moment!"

 _"I know!"_  Madge snaps, hopping up once more, trying to grab onto the lowest branch. She curses whichever ancestor had passed on the wretched short gene to her. "I can't reach!"

Bristel opens her mouth again, no doubt to tell Madge the obvious, when the sound of a twig snapping fills the air.

Madge whirls around immediately, pressing herself to the trunk of the tree as her heart leaps into her throat. Three men emerge from the trees and make their way to the Sleepy Hollow, their eyes completely missing Madge in the darkness.

She can just barely make out the sound of Bristel's quick breathing. With the way her chest is heaving, Madge is sure she's making some noise as well, but out of pure dumb luck, she isn't noticed.

The men have reached the Sleepy Hollow, and one of them climbs up it and begins to cut off a branch. Their steps are careful and there are no words spoken between them: they've clearly done this before.

The man up in the tree throws down the branch, and the tallest of them catches it. Madge has to squint to make out what he does next, but she's fairly certain that he licked his finger and held it up to the air. She remembers Katniss doing something similar: she had been finding the wind direction, as it was a good predictor of which direction birds would fly to when startled.

"Eastbound," the tall man says in a low voice, taking Madge by surprise. That wasn't a 12 accent.

The man in the tree begins to climb down, and the three of them turn around and begin to walk, Madge realizes too late, right towards her.

"Not so fast," Gale's voice cuts through the permeating darkness, effectively stopping the three men in their tracks. He has an arrow already nocked and pointed straight at the tallest man's heart.

"Yeah, not so fast!" Thom adds, pulling out what Madge thinks is a knife.

"Now fellas, let's take this easy," the tall man mediates. Madge frowns, that  _definitely_  wasn't a 12 accent, but it wasn't Capitol either.

"Drop your weapons in front you," Gale instructs steely.

"We ain't got no weapons on us…"

As Gale and the tall man tersely negotiate, a quiet rustling noise catches Madge's attention.

There's a fourth man, quietly slinking in between the trees, taking a wider arc so that he can go around the group gathered- and sneak up on Thom and Gale from behind!

 _"Think!"_  Madge commands herself. By the time she runs into camp and gets someone, the man will have already snuck up on them, if she shouts to warn Gale, she'll give away her's and Bristel's spot and the fourth man could easily catch them from this distance. So almost impulsively, she darts forward, ignoring Bristel's panicked gasp.

The man is moving slowly, so Madge is able to catch up to him quickly. His attention is focused completely on his companions and Thom and Gale, so Madge is able to sneak up almost totally behind him. A large fallen branch is just a foot away from her; if she's able to grab it without making too much noise, she'll be able to knock the man out, she's sure of it.

Her fingers close around the bark of the branch, but as she lifts it, a few leaves make a rustling noise, and the man immediately turns around.

There's a dreadful pause before he leaps at her, his fist connecting painfully with her cheek, but not before Madge is able to raise the branch, which collides painfully into the man's torso.

The man makes a strangled noise as Madge cries out in pain. This immediately catches the attention of the talking men just two trees over. Suddenly, Bristel appears next to her and snatches up the branch Madge had dropped in pain, poising it threateningly over the fallen man's head.

"What the fuck is going on?" Gale roars, Thom, and the other three men right behind him.

"A buddy of theirs was sneaking up on you, Madge stopped him," Bristel tells him, not taking her eyes off the man still writhing on the ground.

Madge removes her hand from her stinging cheek and opens her watery eyes. It feels like her cheekbone has split into two, and the entirety of the left side of her face feels as if it's been stretched to its last seam.

"You weren't supposed to come John!" one of the men shouts. "First you break your rib, and then you come out here acting like a jackass!"

Ah, that explains why her single blow had struck such damage to John.

"Didn't know she was a girl," John wheezes. "Don't hit ladies."

"I do apologize," the tall man says sincerely. "We ain't bad folks, we were just trying to break up your camp because so many people in one spot is bound to attract Capitol attention, and we aren't in the position to run or fight, not with John's rib busted."

"First, you try to starve us," Gale seethes through barely concealed fury. "And then, one of your men strike my woman in the  _face_  - and you think I'll  _forgive_  you?"

Gale nocks his arrow again and though it makes Madge's cheek feel as if it's shattering, Madge shouts. "Don't, Gale!"

He doesn't put his arrow back in his quiver, but he doesn't shoot either, forearm shaking as he strains to not let the arrow fly free.

"One thing at a time," Thom says, placing a hand in both reassurance and warning on Gale's shoulder. "What do you mean, break us up?"

"If we really wanted to doom y'all, we would have just stolen your bow there and other tools," the tall man explains. "But like I said, we ain't evil. We finished off the stew so y'all would suspect each other and have a fallout, going in separate, smaller ways."

They're all close enough for Madge to see the faces, especially with John at her foot. They all have dark skins, much darker than anyone in Seam, paired with their accents, and their obvious knowledge of obscure plants, it's obvious where they're from.

"You're from 11," Madge croaks, unable to open her mouth wide enough to talk normally.

The tall man turns to her and nods solemnly. "Yes, Miss. And I do apologize for my son John's action, boy has more air than brains in that thick skull of his."

"You recognized the Sleepy Hollow," Bristel says suddenly. "That was impressive."

The man who had scolded John earlier speaks up. "We're from 11," he boasts. "Ain't no one that can live off the land better than us."

Madge raises her eyebrows at this, and when she meets Gale's gaze, she knows he's thinking the same thing. Reluctantly, he lowers his bow.

"You don't need to fight the Capitol," Gale tells them. "At least not yet. District 13 exists, and that's where we're headed."

From his spot on the ground, John gasps. "But how?"

Gale shrugs. "I'm not sure," he admits. "But I once met two people traveling there a few years ago."

"Well I'll be…" the tall man breathes, seemingly at a loss for words.

"You said you could live off the land," Thom remarks casually. "Could you have others, say, oh, I don't know, this camp, live off the land?"

The tall man understands what Thom is asking and shakes his head. "If you let us travel with you we can certainly help with scavenging."

"Not so fast," Gale interrupts. "Tomorrow, the camp will decide if you can stay. We'll take a vote"

"Oh bother," John mutters, earning him a quick jab of the branch from Bristel.

"Alright," the tall man agrees. "I'm Lewis, by the way. These are my sons Joshua, Samuel, and you've already met John there."

"Where are you camped?" Gale asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Two miles south, by a stream," Lewis answers.

"Stay one more night there then, and come back at dawn. Don't expect breakfast either," Gale tells the four men, finally returning his arrow to his quiver.

"I love making new friends!" Thom chirps, as Joshua and Samuel come over and help their brother up. Bristel retains her tight grip on the branch.

"Thank you, and again, we're sorry about everything," Lewis apologizes. "I hope you understand why I did what I did."

No one says anything to this. Madge tries not to think what she would have done in his place. She isn't sure if she's ready to find out if her morality is good or ambiguous.

Once the four 11 men are gone, the adrenaline leaves her body completely, and Madge groans in pain as she prods her cheek with a fingertip. The blunt force of the punch has revitalized her headache, and her head is spinning so quickly she nearly tips over.

Immediately Bristel winds an arm around her shoulder, and Madge leans gratefully into her friend.

"Hell's teeth," Gale swears as he comes to stand in front of them, gently taking her chin in his hand to look at her cheek. "I should have whopped him."

"Just a bruise," Madge says through clenched teeth. Technically, the headache isn't really even John's fault.

"Want me to kiss it better?" Thom asks, also standing in front of her now.

"Piss off," Gale snaps before Madge can answer.

"How's that concussion?" Bristel asks worriedly, ignoring the two boys.

"Bad," Madge admits. It feels like her brain is being strangled.

"Here," Gale says, and suddenly she's being lifted in the air.

"I'm fine!" Madge squeaks, not quite believing that Gale is carrying her. Sure, he had carried her during the bombing, but that had been roughly and over his shoulder, not like this, held securely in his arms. It makes her heart race almost quicker than when she had found the Lewis and his sons in the woods

"Sure you are," Gale scoffs. "That guy was twice your size, I'm surprised you didn't…" Gale doesn't finish his thought, though his grip on her tightens.

"Goodnight then," Bristel says, still looking at Madge with worried eyes. Madge tries to give her a reassuring smile, but ends up grimacing from the pain that causes.

"It's already a good night for Gale," Thom smirks. "He's got-" Thom is cut off by a well-placed elbow in the rib from Bristel.

Gale walks them to his family and Madge's eyes slide shut as she finds herself losing her battle in pain tolerance. At the moment, she wants nothing more than to slip into the blissful state of sleep, where she can't feel anything.

She's vaguely aware of Gale setting her down and Hazelle's stricken voice saying something urgently. The last thing she is cognizant of is a cool, damp cloth lain across her cheek

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we know who the thieves are now! Did anyone see that coming? Thanks for reading!


	7. Take Off

_She’s standing, totally naked, in the Lake, but it’s so foggy that she’s almost totally concealed. The usually clear waters are dark under the blue indigo sky, and the water moves against her skin in an almost velvety feel._

_Then, breaking through the fog like the first ray of dawn is Gale. She can only see from his shoulders up, but his dark skin is just as bare as hers._

_She reaches out an arm towards him, silently beckoning him towards her. The waters are still, but each ripple holds an ominous tremor that scares Madge. She wants to get out, and she knows only Gale can carry her out._

_He’s close enough now that she can see the beautiful grays of his eyes. They’re the gray one see’s when the sun duels a storm cloud. They’re the gray of smoke and heat. They’re a gray she can’t look away from._

_His ink black hair contrasts sharply against the milky white fog, and as he comes to stop just before her, the brown of his skin nearly brings her tears of joy at the thought of his strong, Earthy arms coming around her and pulling her from the sinister waters._

_He moves slowly, and the fog parts around him of their own violation, as if the very heat of his body vaporizes the suspended water particles around him. As Madge watches him draw nearer, the entire world seems to stop, and she knows at that moment that she loves him beyond the context and space and time: her heart was his before there was the universe, and she knows it will be his just as much when all that exists is nothingness._

_His hands are about to cup her waist when a large screeching noise comes from the other end of the lake, as if there is a door separating them from the rest of the world, and it is being pried open._

_Both Gale and Madge look to see the source of the noise and are found with the sight of the surrounding woods on fire, the flames whipping the edge of the Lake tauntingly._

_As if he’s forgotten she’s there, Gale turns and begins to walk towards the fire, like he is a penny, and the burning trees are a magnet._

_Madge tries to call out to him, but there is no longer any voice within the column of her throat. She tries to follow him, but the water tugs her back. Undeterred, she continues to thrash forward, only to stop when she realizes, in horror, that the water is dissolving her._

_No- it’s not dissolving her, for that would require her becoming one with the water. Instead, the water is tearing her apart, and the pieces of her float away, separated by the unforgiving waters, never to be whole again._

Madge wakes up, thankfully very much still in one piece, to a bright blue sky staring down at her.

A quick look confirms her fear that she’s overslept, as there’s no one on the tarp beside her. She tries to sit up, only to be hit by a rather nasty load of vertigo.

“Just lie down,” a tired voice tells her. “Before you do even more damage to yourself.”

Madge tilts her head to see Mrs. Everdeen sitting a little way from the tarp, her arms wrapped around her knees almost childishly.

“Why,” Madge begins to ask why Mrs. Everdeen is babysitting her but stops when she realizes she doesn’t have a single polite way of doing so.

“Everyone is judging the men from 11,” Mrs. Everdeen answers anyways. “Hazelle wanted me to make sure you don’t get yourself killed in the meantime.”

Ignoring the older woman’s obvious bitterness for the moment, Madge turns her aching head to see indeed that the entire camp is gathered, with Lewis and his sons seemingly pleading their case. From what Madge can vaguely make out, they don’t have the people of 12 convinced.

Madge forces herself to her knees, pausing as she literally has to swallow her vomit. She needs to get over there and help Lewis persuade the camp: their addition could be invaluable.

“I was like you once,” Mrs. Everdeen whispers, bitterness replaced by sorrow. “I threw everything away for a Seam boy. And look what that’s done.”

Madge pauses in her struggle to get up to look at Katniss’s mother in shock.

“I see you, running around, trying to convince him that you’re worthy of his heart,” Mrs. Everdeen divulges disgustedly. “Take my advice: it will only break _your_ heart.”

“You’re wrong,” Madge says hoarsely, the entirety of her face and head hurting so badly her entire body is trembling. “This isn’t all for Gale. I exist outside of him.”

“But you don’t want to!” Mrs. Everdeen snaps. “You think I don’t see the longing in your eyes? The timidity of your hands when you speak to him?”

“I _do_ ,” Madge insists, though she’s deeply unsettled to know Mrs. Everdeen has been watching her so closely, and who knows for how long. “I want to do the right thing. I need to honor my Father and the rebellion.”

The impatient anger on Mrs. Everdeen’s face breaks into malicious, barely concealed fury at the mention of rebellion. Madge regrets her word choice immediately. The rebellion killed her daughter, it’s only understandable that Mrs. Everdeen would want to damn the word and anyone associated with it.

A shout from the congregated camp diverts their attention. It seems that the District has begun to grow impatient listening, but Lewis refuses to relent. Madge can make out phrases like _not one of us_ , and _go back to 11_ , which only tears at Madge’s heart. They may have escaped from the Capitol, but the Capitol still lurks within their hearts.

“M’am,” an entirely new, male voice says from behind Madge. Madge turns around and nearly throws up all over again.

A soldier. His gray hair is neatly combed and his long face is utterly expressionless.

The Capitol has found them, and they were going to kill them all.

Madge is about to open her mouth to scream when the soldier gestures to the patch on his right forearm: a Mockingjay.

“I’m Major Jib Hoppock, from District 13.”

Madge is sure that if she looked over, Mrs. Everdeen’s mouth would be just as widely agape as hers is. She quickly snaps out of her shock; a delayed response is a failed response.

“Prove it,” is all Madge says, as her mind tries to think of a way to get Mrs. Everdeen to get up and run and inform the camp.

Hoppock nods as if he expected this.

“I can’t prove it to you, M’am, but if you could take me to your leader, I could take them to the waiting hovercraft fleet and they could decide for themselves if we’re legitimate or not.”

“Fleet?” Madge gasps, her body seized in icy fear. There was an entire army somewhere in the woods, which completely ruled out any plans of making a wild dash. They were surrounded.

“All non-combative,” Hoppock assures her. “This is strictly a search and rescue mission. As you can see, I don’t even have any weapons on my person.”

From what Madge can see, this was true, which seemed to lend truth to his claim.

“Take off your shirt, and empty your pockets,” Madge commands. Just because she can’t see any weapons doesn’t mean he isn’t concealing one.

Hoppock frowns but does as she says. Sure enough, under his uniform is a white sleeveless undershirt, and his arms are totally bare. His pockets turn up empty as well.

Madge glances over at Mrs. Everdeen, who’s been silent during the entire exchange. She looks as if she’s seen a ghost. Useful.

Madge carefully considers her options. While it’s totally possible he’s a Capitol spy, what would be the point of sending him in? A hovercraft with one bomb would be more than sufficient to take down the entire camp. Unless they wanted intel before they wiped everyone out? But what information could they have that the Capitol itself did not have access to?

“Alright,” Madge concedes. “I’ll take you to our leader, but give me your shirt, and keep your hands in the air the entire time.”

Hoppock doesn’t argue, though he does look a bit offended.

“And walk in front of me,” Madge adds strictly.

Her legs are still shaky, but she has a renowned purpose, and she’ll be damned if a punch to the face from the night before costs the entire District a free ticket to 13.

They make their way over the crowd, which has gotten louder and angrier. Hoppock actually couldn’t have had better timing, if things work out, then Lewis and his son’s will be safe too.

Madge is about to shout for the camp’s attention when someone notices Hoppock, and like a domino effect, everyone else does too, and everyone falls silent.

“Who is this?” Gale demands, stepping forward.

Madge comes up to stand next to Hoppock. “He says he’s from 13,” Madge tells everyone. She holds out his shirt to show the Mockingjay badge. “He says that he can take us there.”

Hoppock repeats what he had told her, no one says a word as Gale frowns, considering the Major’s words.

“I’ll go with you,” Gale says finally.

And that’s how Madge ends up where she is now, head in Hazelle’s lap as she fights an immobilizing headache that only grows with each second Gale is gone.

“He’ll be just fine,” Hazelle assures herself or Madge, she isn’t sure. “Just fine...”  
  
“Ma?” Vick asks tentatively. “How do we know that things...will be ok in 13?”

“Because if something isn’t ok, then you can change it so that it is,” Hazelle answers immediately. Madge thinks of her strange dream from this morning, and the hopeless, sinking feeling it had left her with. Can she change herself?

“I’m sure everyone in 13 will be so freaked out that you have a missing tooth at 10 that they’ll leave you alone,” Rory teases.

“I’m not gonna lose any teeth,” Posy says confidently over Vick’s indignation.

“Gale!” Rory exclaims, catching sight of his brother returning. Posy jumps up excitedly and runs towards him.

“Pack your things,” Gale announces to everyone with a large smile, stroking Posy’s head gently as she clings to his leg. “We’re going to 13.”

No one seems to want to argue that this could all be a ruse; they’re too happy to think of the what ifs of the situation. Madge wants to rejoice as well, but her headache continues to brutalize her.

“Ma, can you get Madge’s things?” Gale asks once he reaches them. “Hoppock has a few army medics that can look at her while we’re waiting for everyone.”

“Absolutely,” Hazelle answers immediately, gently patting Madge’s good cheek.

Madge closes her eyes as Gale bends down to pick her up.

“I can walk,” Madge says through clenched teeth.

“And I can fly,” Gale retorts sarcastically.

Madge doesn’t say anything, thinking back to her dream where Gale hadn’t picked up her and left her to drown. It contrasts so sharply with reality, as he easily carries her through the thick forest foliage.

She wonders why Gale is suddenly nice and caring to her. Has she proven to be a reliable friend to him?

“Does it hurt real bad?” Gale asks, confusing her silence for pain instead of contemplation.

“I’ll live,” Madge jokes, unable to find the courage to ask him if he sees her as a friend or not.

They arrive at the 13 fleets, where several hovercrafts patiently wait for its passengers. Gale takes her inside of one, and Madge isn’t given much time to admire the mechanical wonder that the interior boasts as she’s lead into a room where a young man in a similar uniform to Hoppock is standing.

“First Sergeant Andrew Michals,” the young man introduces himself as Gale lies her down on a medical examination table. “What seems to be the problem?”

“She got a concussion three days ago, and yesterday she was punched in the face,” Gale answers for her, his voice growing angry at the end of his sentence. “She was getting better, but then…”

Michals makes a humming noise and begins to rummage around in a small cabinet. He retrieves a syringe and a corked vial.

“I’ll inject this directly into the base of your skull,” Michals tells her. “It’ll temporarily shrink your blood vessels and reduce overall pain. Any other neurological treatment will have to be done at the hospital.”

Madge nods her consent, although the idea of being stabbed by a needle in the most vulnerable part of her body terrifies her. Michals inserts the needle of the syringe into the cork of the vial and raises the plunger so that medicine enters the tip.

“Sit up,” Michals instructs her once the vial has been emptied. Madge tries to push her palms against the bed, but her arms feel disconnected from her body. Gale takes her shoulders in his hand and pulls her forward until her forehead is resting against his sternum.

She can feel the subdued beat of his heart and the smell of his sweat as Michals moves away her hair and places the tip of the syringe at the base of her skull. The actual insertion just feels like a pinch, but as the medicine enters her bloodstream, she experiences a strange, tingling feeling, and a pressure that almost feels as if it's pushing down her headache.

Gale leans her back down and Madge’s eyes slip shut.

“It’ll take about two hours to get back to 13, I recommend sleeping during that time,” Michals says. “I’ll apply this numbing cream to your cheek.”

“Thank you,” Madge murmurs, growing drowsier by the minute.

So, with her cheek numb and the rest of her body tight, Madge falls into a strange, drug-induced sleep.

* * *

She’s startled awake, and gasps at the sudden proximity to unfamiliar dark eyes.

“I told you that’s creepy,” a woman’s voice scoffs somewhere to her left. The dark eyes move away, and Madge is oriented enough to recognize they belong to Mikhal.

Mikhal frowns at the mystery woman and then looks back at Madge. “We’re going to be landing soon, Officer Tallahan will take you to your seat.”

Madge looks to Tallahan, who turns out to be a strawberry blonde that doesn’t look too much older than Madge. Tallahan ignores Madge to glare at Mikhal.

“So it’s just Tallahan now?” the bristling Officer asks. “Forgot my first name already, huh Andrew?”

“For the love of 13- Susy can we discuss this when we’re off-duty?” Mikhal implores exasperatedly. Tallahan only scoffs before finally turning to Madge.

“Follow me.”

Apparently, Mikhal only brings out the worst in Susy, because she’s actually quite nice to Madge once they’re out of the cramped room. Madge is actually grateful she glimpsed at what she assumes was a lover’s quarrel, it makes the people of 13 more human, and less mysterious, taking the edge off this whole thing, if just by a little.

“I was devastated when I found out about 12,” Susy reveals as they make their way to the civilian hanger. “Both my Mom’s parents died in 13’s bombings. They hadn’t been able to evacuate in time.”

“Mine too,” Madge whispers, hugging her sides tightly.

This makes Susy stop walking, and she looks at Madge with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” she cries. “I had no idea, I-”

“It’s ok,” Madge quickly reassures her with a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Susy doesn’t look too convinced of this, but she nods anyways and opens a door behind her, revealing the large hangar that was lined with filled seats.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Susy says one more time, before she goes off to no doubt her own seat for the aircrew.

Madge steps into the large floor area and looks for an empty seat. Whatever Mikhal had given her was extremely effective, because there’s hardly a lingering trace of her headache, and her cheek is only a little sore.

“Madge!” someone calls out, and Madge looks over to see Thom waving her over, Bristel on his one side, and an empty seat on his other.

Making her way over to them, Madge slips into the seat with relief. She’s never been in an aircraft before, and she can’t help but feel slightly anxious being thousands of feet up in the air.

“How’re you feeling?” Bristel asks, leaning over Thom to look at her as she fumbles with the seatbelt.

“Good as new,” Madge says, though her tone is frustrated. Why are these belts so complicated?

“Here,” Thom offers, reaching down to buckle her in. “A hot soldier lady had to help me with mine.”

“Thank you,” Madge tells him gratefully when she feels a pair of eyes on her. She looks up to see Gale glaring at her. Madge instantly feels guilty, he had literally carried her to receive medical attention, and she didn’t even have the manners to tell him she was much better.

She smiles and waves at him, hoping this relays her message of good health to him, but he just looks away. Hazelle catches her eye and gives her a warm smile before leaning over to say something to Gale.

“Did something happen?” Madge asks with a frown.

“What do you mean?” Bristel asks, shoving Thom’s face back so she can get a clearer view of Madge’s face.

Thom retaliates by shoving Bristel’s face away. “Yeah, what’s up?”  
  
“I don’t know, Gale just looks upset about something,” Madge whispers, mindful of the eavesdropping Merchant woman beside her.

“That’s kinda Gale’s default face, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Thom laughs.

“Nothing happened which I’m aware of,” Bristel actually answers her, forcibly holding Thom’s head back.

Madge purses her lips. Why does he look so sullen then?

Several red lights flash on, and a large _dinging_ noise echoes through the hangar, followed by a voice over an intercom.

“We’ll be landing in five minutes, if you aren’t wearing your seatbelt, please make sure that you are now.”  
  
Madge pushes away her worries of Gale. Thom is kinda right, Gale’s default expression is a scowling one.

As the hovercraft begins to descend, both Madge’s stomach and heart leap up to her throat. She grips the edge of her seat tightly, as the hopeful excitement of entering District _13_ blooms within her.

This was it. She had survived the bombings and the woods. She had done it, and if she could live through this, she could do anything.

She was slightly jostled when the hovercraft makes a touchdown, but other than that, it had been a smooth landing. The large doors opened with the sound of industrial pulleys creaking, and Madge had her first view of 13:

They were indoors, in some large sort of storage area for hovercrafts. The lights that had been flashing red earlier turned green, and people take this as a signal to unbuckle themselves. Although she didn’t need his help, Madge lets Thom unbuckle her, only because it made him really happy to do so.

Her first step out of the hovercraft was a weighty one, the hard concrete under her foot a welcome reminder that she was no longer in the air, and an unbelievable fact that she was actually standing in District 13.

There’s a line of tables set up, each with two people seated at it. Workers from 13 organized the District into lines to be registered at the tables.

“What’s this all about?” Bristel grumbles. They’re towards the end of a line, and though it isn’t moving

“Probably beauractric,” Madge guesses.

“And you think I know that word...why?” Thom asks her, and she and Bristel share a look. Thom’s parents are registered first, then him, then Bristel’s parents, Bristel, and then finally her. Madge has heard the questions enough times that she isn’t really nervous when it’s her turn.

“Name?” a bespeckled woman asks Madge without looking up from her tablet.

“Margaret Undersee.”

“As in s-e-a?” she asks, finally looking up. Her face has the linings of old age, but other than that, she looks healthy.

“As in s-e-e.”  
  
“Age?”

“18,” Madge lies. A girl in front of her had told them she was 16 with no parents and she was assigned to the District’s orphanage, and Madge had no intention of ending up there herself.

“Any family members?”

“No,” Madge answers tightly.

“Extend your finger.”

Madge does as she says, and watches as the woman takes a small, hand-held device that looks almost like a thermometer, prick her finger and scan the droplet of blood that leaks out from the tiny wound.

“No diseases. Do you require any immediate medical attention?”

“I’m alright, thank you,” Madge says, and she really is. A bit sore, but ready to go.

“Exit to the doors to your left, there you’ll see several pods, enter one that says ‘vacant’. If none of them do, wait until one does.” the woman instructs her. “Next.”

Madge exits the huge garage-like space and enters a room that isn’t very wide, but very long. Along the opposite wall are doors with glowing signs above them that says, ‘IN USE’. There are several women in the room with her, all waiting.

One of the door’s sign changes so it reads ‘VACANT’, and a woman quickly hurries and enters it. Madge hadn’t been able to see what was inside, so she sighs and begins to pace in nervous anticipation.

After about 15 minutes, she’s finally able to enter through a door herself and finds herself in a nearly completely tiled room.

It’s a shower.

Suddenly, a silver slot on the wall opens, and a robotic voice says, “Please remove all your clothing and place them into the shoot.”

Are there cameras watching her? She considers disobeying the order to see if they’d notice, but then decides that isn’t really the first impression she wants to make with 13, so she dutifully removes her clothes and lets them fall down the shoot. She wonders if she’ll ever see them again.

“Please step to where the black X is on the ground,” the robotic voice says, and Madge looks down to see indeed there’s a black tiled X on the ground. She walks over until she’s standing on it, finding herself the exact center of the room.

“State your name,” the robotic voice asks.

“Margaret Undersee.”

As she awaits further instructions, she’s suddenly hit with warm water from what it seems like every direction.

She coughs and splutters as she finds an angle where there isn’t a water jet stream aimed directly at her face. She begins to wash her hair and finds that the water is sudsy. After a few minutes, the water momentarily pauses, before starting up again, this time with no soap mixed into it.

When that’s all done with and Madge is left soaking wet, a large whirling noise starts and she is suddenly being dried with blasts of warm air. This is no doubt that this is the most invasive, annoying shower, she has ever had.

Finally, that ends, and both Madge and the room are completely dry once more. As irritating as that had been, Madge is grateful that she’s totally clean once more, never mind her hair is probably a poofy circle around her head from the blow drying.

“Scanning,” the robotic voice says right before a horizontal red beam crosses over her body twice.

“Height: 61 inches.  Weight: 110 pounds. Bust: 34 inches. Waist: 24 inches. Hips: 38 inches. Shoe size: 5.”

“What sort of perverted-”

Madge’s angry question is answered when out of the same slot she had thrown her clothes, a new pair came out. Everything made more sense now.

Pulling on the drab gray one piece and white shoes, Madge smoothed her hair as best as she could. She had luckily kept the hair tie around her wrist and pulled that off to tie her fluffy hair into a ponytail.

Once she thought she looked presentable, which was really a guess since there wasn’t a mirror, Madge goes over and opens the door opposite from the one that she had entered from.

Outside is the rest of the District, waiting in a queue to meet with a 13 worker who will assign and take them to their new living quarters, while a large screen goes over the rules and procedures associated with living in 13. Madge manages to find Hazelle and the kids and makes her way over to them.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to be clean again,” Madge jokes lightly as a greeting.

Hazelle gives her a tight-lipped smile. Rory is frowning at her with a mixed expression while Posy and Vick watch the screen. Gale is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Gale?” Madge asks, beginning to feel dread from their expression.

“With Katniss.”

 

  **END ARC 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we are, the end of the first arc! As of now, I think this story will be two arcs long, followed up by a sequel. It's not written out, but I'm sure that arc 2 will be longer than this one, so this isn't the halfway point yet.
> 
> How did I do? Was this chapter a bit anti-climactic? Anything you wish I hadn't done? Something you wish I that I do in the next arc? Let me know!!


	8. Restart

“If I have to clean  _ one _ more toilet, I swear to God, I’ll take one of their fancy guns and blow my freaking brains out,” Thom threatens as he viciously stabs his lunch with a fork.

“I personally think janitorial staff is the perfect profession for you,” Bristel taunts. “Considering you’re full of shit.”

“I’m not in the mood for your sassy remarks!” Thom snaps. “Especially when all you is sit around and fold clothes! Which happen to be clean, too!”

“If it makes you feel better, the dishes I handle aren’t clean,” Madge offers with a sympathetic smile.

“I would rather wash a hundred dishes everyday forever, then touch another toilet again,” Thom mutters, shoving a large quantity of food into his mouth.

The transition to 13 had been...rocky. The underground District, Madge had quickly learned, both looked and functioned like a clock, ironically enough, just like the latest arena, though she tried not to think of that.

Her first week underground had been difficult, to say the least. In 13, children over 14 were to be enrolled in military training, and at 18 they were placed into jobs most suited to their strengths. The young adults of 12, however, had missed this training, and 13 found itself scrambling to ensure its perfect system remained flawless. So anyone above the age of 18, except those with any disabilities that prevented them from working, or Mothers of young children, were assigned temporary jobs.

Madge had been randomly sorted into dish washing duties. There were large industrial dish washers that everything would be loaded into, but her job was to scrub everything clean so the washers would have easier loads. Her hands, unused to such menial, physical labor, had cracked terribly, and were sore long after she was done working each day.

The arduous dish washing wasn’t the worst part of her day, however. No, that was when every item on the tattooed schedule on her forearm was washed off, and she was left alone in her compartment.

Lying alone in her cot, she felt so small, so lonely, so  _ vulnerable _ that she couldn’t sleep. She would mourn for her deceased parents, whom she would never see again. She would ache for her obliterated home, her grief constricting around her neck like a rope, making Madge wish it would tighten, if just a bit, so she wouldn’t have to feel so empty. Then morning would come, her alarm blaring mercilessly, and she would have to get up and go on as if there were any point to her miserable existence. The concrete seemed to close around her, and Madge at times would have to remind herself that there was in fact air, that she wasn’t suffocating, no matter how heavy the weight of solitude was on her chest. The world slowly shifted into grayscale, and she couldn’t taste anything anymore.

And as much as she tried to deny it, she knew that a part of the reason why she was so miserable was Gale.

To this day, she doesn’t know what happened between the time he carried her into the hovercraft and when she saw him for the first time in 13, but whatever it was, Gale had gone back to acting as if her very existence disgusted him. It stung, more so than it did back in 12, because back then she had understood his bitterness, as misplaced it may have been. But here, in 13? There was no longer a class difference between them. She ate the same food he did, wore the same clothes he did, and yet the disdain was there, clear as day, as if that brief interlude in the woods had never happened.

It had been dinner time, when she caught sight of the Hawthorne’s. They had been briefly separated as they were led to their respective living quarters, and Madge was happy to be reunited with them. She hadn’t been in her room for more than 15 minutes, and already the emptiness had begun to claw at her.

After getting her food from the line, she made her way over to where they sat, taking her place next to a happily eating Vick.

“What are you doing?” Gale had demanded coolly, before anyone could say anything.

Madge had looked around in confusion. “Um, sitting?”

“I can see that,” Gale rolled his eyes. “What I mean is, why are you sitting  _ here _ ?”

“Gale!” Hazelle had sternly admonished. “Good grief boy, is that any way to speak to a friend?”

“We aren’t friends,” Gale snarled, narrowing his eyes at Mage. “We never were.”

“Gale!” Hazelle gasped, olive skin flushing red.

Years of practice with masking her emotions was the only thing that had stopped her from bursting into tears right then and there. But of course, it all made sense. Gale had only been acting nice to her in the woods to ensure her cooperation. She was the only one with any experience with the woods, and he had needed her, as much as he probably detested that.

“Why are you being mean to Sissy, Gale?” Posy asked in a shocked voice, as if she couldn’t believe her big brother was capable of such a thing.

“She’s not your sister,” Gale told her sternly, making Posy shrink in her seat.

“He isn’t being mean, Posy,” Madge quickly said. “Only speaking the truth. I just wanted to know if Katniss was ok, since she  _ is _ my friend.”

“Fine,” Gale answered tersely, looking indignant no doubt over the fact that she had just called the girl he was in love with  _ her _ friend.

Madge stood up to go when Hazelle pleaded. “Madge honey, you really don’t have to go, please eat with us.”

“It’s fine, Hazelle,” Madge said with a tight lipped smile. “I have something to do anyways,” she lied.

“Bye Madge,” Vick had said in a sad voice, and she heard Rory chuckle bitterly.

She had quickly retreated from the table, dumping her uneaten dinner into a rubbish bin before returning to her barren room, curling into a ball on the floor of her shower, and crying until she used up her hot water limit, and even then some. So fast, her resolve to never bend for Gale Hawthorne, had broken.

The next few days she had religiously avoided any and all Hawthorne’s as she dragged through her daily schedule. The fixed monotony was both a blessing and a curse; having every minute of her day certainly helped her from simply fading away from existence, but knowing what she had to do every minute of the day also let her mind go into autopilot, and Madge found herself going through the day more as a robot than human.

What did she have to live for? In the woods, she was tasked with aiding the survival of 800 people. But here, in a District where everything was so efficient that the sight of spilled milk truly was jarring, she had no purpose. She didn’t have a family, friends, or even a role in the rebellion that had taken everything from her.

She had been trudging to her designated seminar on the history of 13, when she had bumped into Bristel. In her numb state, she had forgotten about her vigilant friend.

“God, Madge, are you alright?” Bristel had asked immediately, concern flooding her face.

“Yes?” Madge didn’t know why Bristel was asking her this.

“You look like you haven’t slept...or eaten, for days,” Bristel said, frowning.

That wasn’t entirely true. Sure, she couldn’t sleep through the night, too seized by desolation to fall asleep, but she intermittently dozed off the day, only to be awaken by being told off for doing so. She ate whatever she could sneak out of the cafeteria in her pockets.

“I’m fine,” Madge brushed off her concerns. “I have to go.”

But Madge should have known better than to think that Bristel would let it go, because when she returned to her room from the seminar, Hazelle was waiting for her, along with a bored Posy. She wasn’t even sure how the two had found where she was staying.

“I need your help,” Hazelle had blurted, before Madge could even ask what she was doing there.

“With what?” Madge had asked bewilderedly. Everything was provided to them, what could Hazelle need her for?

“Before, I had the boys to make sure Posy didn’t get up in the middle of the night to get into shenanigans,” Hazelle explained. “But now, with them in another room, I don’t have anyone to do that. I was thinking you could room with us, at least during the night.”

Madge stopped herself from snorting solely out of respect for the woman before her. Did she really think Madge would fall for this?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Madge declined as politely as she could.

“No, Sissy!” Posy wailed. “I never see you anymore, come be with me!”

“I’m sorry Posy, but I can’t,” Madge apologized to the little girl, whose lower lip was quivering dangerously. “They have strict rules about these things down here.”

“This is about Gale, isn’t it,” Hazelle said bluntly. “Madge you have to understand-”

“This isn’t about anyone,” Madge interjected forcibly. “We all have assigned rooms, and that’s where we’re supposed to sleep.

“Madge please just let me explain,” Hazelle practically begged, and Madge had no choice but to comply. “He’s terribly confused, that hard-headed son of mine. He thought Katniss was dead, then you came in, and then suddenly Katniss is alive.”

“He’s very loyal,” Hazelle tries to explain. “He probably thinks his friendship with you is somehow disrespecting the one he has with Katniss.”

“But the one he has with Bristel’s doesn’t?” Madge nearly snaps. She sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose. “He just hates me. And besides, I didn’t just ‘come in’, he’s known me for years.”

“ _ No _ ,” Hazelle refuted loudly, making Madge look up. “I’m his Ma, I  _ know _ what’s going on in that stubborn mind of his.”

“I’m not asking you to interact with Gale,” Hazelle bargained. “But I don’t want you sleeping alone, it’s not healthy for you, not after...what’s happened. And I saw you once, sneaking out of the cafeteria with just an apple. If you keep this up you’ll starve.”

“Starving is bad,” Posy added sagely.

The fight left Madge after that. Her desperate need to be around people who cared, to actually be  _ touched  _ and looked after, and not seen as a another gear in the well oiled-clock that was 13 outweighed her ego.

That first night in Hazelle and Posy’s room, Madge had expected to be given her own cot, but to her surprise, Hazelle had handed her a drowsy Posy.

“A child against your chest can chase away the worst of dreams,” was all she had said, a knowing twinkle in her gray eyes.

She had wanted to argue that she didn’t have dreams-she couldn’t sleep, period. But then she had settled into the narrow cot and let Posy snuggle into her arms, her little face settling into her neck, and almost unbidden, tears had sprung into her eyes, as the sweet, almost milky scent of a young child clouded her.

She felt so safe, so  _ warm _ with little Posy breathing softly against her skin, that she had fallen asleep almost immediately. It didn’t make sense, she knew, to take security from a four year old, but her steady heartbeat was like a beautiful symphony to her ears. She hadn’t even cared that the little girl had drooled on her.

She went about her day more awake, more  _ present _ , finding herself laughing along to the stories told by the the women she washed dishes with, and actually paying attention in her hybrid classes.

Hazelle had sternly forbidden her from skipping meals, so she endured an awkward breakfast, with Gale glowering at his plate the entire time. Hazelle must have said something to him the day before though, because he didn’t say a word to her. Both Vick and Rory had been ecstatic at her ‘return’, and Madge couldn’t help but feel warm at their enthusiasm over her presence.

It’s lunchtime, and she had just come from her class on combative ethics. She was looking around for Hazelle and the kids, when she was suddenly swept up into an unexpected hug.

“There you are!” Thom had exclaimed. “Thought you could pull a disappearing act on me, huh?”

After getting the ok from Hazelle with an encouraging smile, Madge sat down with her friends, and became quickly immersed into a playful banter that she had so badly missed. To think she nearly let Gale let her become a shut in. Disgraceful.

“Are you going to go into the training, then, once your classes are over?” Bristel asks, swirling her straw with a finger.

“Duh,” Thom rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna be a pilot!”

“That sounds really cool!” Madge encourages, and really, it does.

“He only wants to become a pilot because he thinks all the air women are hot,” Bristel informs her with a roll of her eyes.

“If loving attractive women is a crime, I’ll plead guilty to life imprisonment right here and now.”

“God help anyone that steps foot into a craft you’re flying.”

As Bristel and Thom bicker, Madge purses her lips and considers Bristel’s question.

She had sort of...assumed, that whatever miniscule role she had played in the rebellion was over. It wasn’t like there were any newspapers for her to smuggle down here after all. The opportunity to be properly trained in combat and survival was now offered to her, but the thought of her, Madge Undersee, hardly five feet tall and never having even gripped a kitchen knife before, let alone a real weapon, a soldier? It was laughable.

“What about you?” Madge asks, interrupting the Uncle and Niece. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do, Bristel?”

“I’m going to enroll in basic training, but I’m not going to go into combatives,” Bristel answers. “They have a few courses I’m interested in, but programming in particular has my fancy.”

Madge doesn’t even know what programming is. Suddenly, she’s angry at herself for moping around instead of putting thought into what must be done. You would think she would have coped with a life on her own a bit better, having been practically alone her entire life.

“Do you know what you’re gonna do?” Thom asks. “Or have you found your calling with the dishes?”

“I don’t know,” Madge admits in a small voice still still feeling ashamed of how weak and pathetic she had been.

“You’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” Bristel assures her, finally taking her straw between her lips and drinking from it.

“And if you don’t figure it out you can just get married and pop out a few kids, God knows this place really needs some,” Thom says half joking, half seriously.

He had a point, just looking around now, there are only a handful of children, and from that, most of them Madge recognizes are from 12.

“I wonder why that is,” Madge contemplates aloud.

“My theory is the men of 13 just don’t know how to stick it,” Thom snickers. “But not to worry ladies of 13, your savior has arrived!”

Two 13 women walk past them at that moment, and the looks on their faces made enduring Thom’s raoucusesnes totally worth it.

“I should get going, my shift is starting,” Madge excuses herself, picking up her tray from the table.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Bristel says lightly, but there’s a warning in her eyes.

“And deprive myself of Thom’s insight? I would never,” Madge teases.

“Oh, Madgie, flattery looks good on you!” Thom calls after her as she places her tray on the conveyor belt that will take it to the back where lo and behold, she’ll have to wash it.

Regina, her redheaded shift supervisor nods curtly at her. Her disdain for Madge is thinly veiled, and Madge can’t really blame her.  Feeling genuine guilt for her slow work and numerous slip ups, Madge resolves to was dishes today like the whole world depended on it.

Take her spot at her station, she grabs a glass off the belt and dunks it into the water-filled sink in front of her, running a washcloth over, around, and under it.

She’s been working steadily for nearly 15 minutes when she realizes the woman next to her has been spending more time looking at her then cleaning. She glances to her side to see that it’s a voluptuous blonde girl that looks both her age and extremely familiar.

“Oh, Hi!” the girl greets her excitedly. “I’ve been watching you for the past week, well not  _ watching _ like a creep, but just glancing over you know? Anyways, you didn’t look like you wanted to be bothered so I didn’t bother you but I really wanted to because it is so boring down here and I really-”

“I’m Madge!” she quickly interrupts with a slightly forced smile. The girl certainly had a mouth on her.

“Oh, silly me!” she giggles as she plucks a plate off the belt. “I’m Delly Cartwright.”

_ As in Cartwright Shoes. _

“I knew you looked familiar,” Madge tells her, this time with an actual smile.

“Oh, I recognized you right away!” Delly says brightly. “Then again, you were famous, and you’re also very pretty, so I’d have to be blind not to although the lighting down here is terrible, don’t you think? I really miss the sun. Do you?”

“Um, yes,” Madge answers after a moment, as she maneuvers through Delly’s sudden shifts in topic.

The rest of their shift is spent with Delly chattering away and Madge listening, occasionally giving an answer when Delly stopped for air. She actually wasn’t as annoying as Madge would have assumed her to be, their dynamic worked well-Madge the attentive listener, and Delly the bubbly speaker.

She goes to hang up her apron at the end of her shift when Delly twists her hands nervously.

“Hey...are you going to enroll in training?” Delly asks carefully.

“I’m planning to, why?” Madge asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I was just wondering....maybe we could enroll in the same class?” Delly suggests in sudden uncharacteristic shyness. “I know we haven’t spoken before, but none of my friends made it out and I don’t have-”

“Yes!” Madge interrupts her once more. Then, in a gentler voice. “Of course I can do that. I’ll try to get my friend Bristel on board as well.”

Delly’s smile told her she had done the right thing. Now all she had to do was convince Bristel to voluntarily hang out with a female Thom.

“Thank you!” Delly suddenly threw her arms around her, encasing Madge in a warm, soft hug. She smelled like dish soap.

She walks back to Hazelle and Posy’s room with a slight smile on her face. Said smile slips off her face when she opens the door and see’s Gale.

Thankfully, Gale seems just as unhappy to see her, because he quickly rises from his spot next to Posy.

“I’m going to go check on Prim and then head to bed,” he tells Hazelle, leaning down to press a kiss to Posy’s head.

Prim! Yet, another person she’d forgotten about in her temporary, sorrow-induced insanity. She needed to check up on the girl, and hopefully get a better update on Katniss that consisted more than the word, ‘fine’.

“I’ll check for you,” Madge says to Gale, even though she’d be content with never talking to the massive jerk ever again. “What’s the room number?”

Gale narrows his eyes. “ _ I’m _ checking, not you.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Hazelle quickly cuts into what’s going to no doubt be another impending argument. “Just go, the both of you, for heaven’s sake.”

Not giving him the chance to argue, Madge turns around and leaves the room.

Neither of them speak as they make their way to the Everdeen unit, the silence a palpable being between them, though Madge has to practically jog to keep up with his long strides. Not for the first time she curses her small height, and Gale’s massive one. 

As they wait for the elevator to take them to the correct floor, Madge suddenly remembers that Gale’s father had been killed, most probably by an elevator very similar to the one they were standing in. She wanted desperately to ask him if he was ok riding in it, but held her tongue. If he had wanted to use the stairs then he could have.

Mercifully, they reach the unit, and Gale raps against the door impatiently. A moment later, it’s open by a timid Prim, who quickly widens the door when she see’s who’s knocking.

“Gale, Madge! You two are together!” Prim says cheerfully.

“NO!” Gale suddenly shouts, startling everyone in the room. “We are  _ not _ together!”

Madge looks at him incredulously. Has being away from the sun for too long made him lose his entire mind?

“I didn’t mean-I’m sorry, I,” Prim stammers, her pale cheeks flushing in color.

“It’s alright Prim,” Madge consoles. “No one thought of it like that except him. He isn’t really a people person.”

“I”m not a- you’re the!” Gale shouts nonsensically before he takes a breath and forces himself to calm down. “I just came to check on you two.”

Across the room Mrs. Everdeen gives Madge a knowing look, and Madge looks away from her in annoyance. That woman had no idea what she was going on about. Madge suddenly understands Katniss’s disdain for her Mother.

“We’re fine,” Prim tells him slowly, as if she’s still confused over his outburst.

“Well,” Gale says awkwardly. “I’ll go now.”

Gale doesn’t offer to walk her back nor does she ask.

“Sit?” Prim pats the spot on her cot next to her invitingly, and Madge takes her up on the offer, still resolutely ignoring Mrs. Everdeen on her own cot across from her now.

“How’re you handling the move?” Madge asks, fully taking in the younger girl’s appearance. She looks healthy and happy, thankfully, but she still wants a verbal confirmation.

“The people here are kinda stiff,” Prim giggles, and Madge has to smile in agreement. “But it isn’t bad. I had enough medical knowledge that I get to skip regular schooling and go straight into medic training.”

“That’s amazing!” Madge gushes, and really it is. “You’re gonna be the youngest doctor in Panem, you just wait!”

“Will not!” Prim giggles, though she looks undeniably pleased at the idea. “What about you, do you like 13?”

“It’s alright,” Madge answers with a shrug. Time to get to the matter at hand. “I’ve been worried about Katniss, though.”

Prim sobers instantly at the mention of her older sister.

“She’s been through a lot,” Prim says sadly. Then, she brightens. “You should visit her, I’m sure that’ll cheer her up!”

Madge blinks. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“I don’t know…” Madge says hesitantly. While it was true, she and Katniss had grown close after her return from the first Games, she knew even though Katniss was  _ her _ best friend, she wasn’t Katniss’s best friend.

“Trust me, she’ll be happy,” Prim assures her. “If you’re not busy, we can go now?”

“I’m not,” Madge answers immediately. If Prim thinks it's ok, Madge  _ really _ wants to visit Katniss.

“I’m gonna go with Madge,” Prim tells her Mom, who’s just staring blankly at the ceiling. The sight reminds Madge uncomfortably of her own Mother, and Madge’s dislike for the woman only grows more. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Is everything ok with you and Gale?” Prim asks tentatively once they reach the elevators. Madge appreciates her asking once they’re away from Mrs. Everdeen.

“Were we ever?” Madge jokes, but her own words leave a sour truth in her mouth. Prim frowns, but doesn’t say anything more on the matter.

The hospital wing makes Madge uncomfortable, especially the dark hallway Prim leads her to. The smell of disinfectant is overpowering, and it's several degrees cooler here than it is in the rest of the District.

Katniss’s room is the very last one in the hall, and a light shines through the small window of her door, letting them know she’s awake.

Prim’s warning of ‘she’s been through a lot’ hadn’t properly prepared Madge. Katniss looks like a corpse, with pale skin, sunken in cheeks, and dark smudges under her eyes. Her normally braided hair is loose, and is wildly tangled. Her hands keep twitching and there’s a fine sheen of sweat on her sallow skin. All of this is nothing compared to her eyes. Her wild, beautiful, brave, strong friend, who Madge looked up to more than anyone has the eyes of a broken person, someone who no longer has anything to live for.

“Madge,” Katniss croaks, and Madge suddenly moves forward, taking Katniss’s clammy hands into hers.

“I’m so sorry,” Madge cries, resenting herself entirely for being such an awful friend. “No one would tell me where they kept you, I should have come sooner.”

Katniss doesn’t say anything, just looks at their hands. Katniss’s naturally dark skin is nearly Madge’s shade.

Prim comes up behind her and rubs her back soothingly. “It’s ok, Katniss is just fine, right Katniss?”

Katniss looks at her sister, and she see’s the gray of her eyes piece together, just a bit, while her sister speaks.

“Of course she’s fine,” Madge says, her voice still shaky from her tears. “Everything is going to be fine now.”

Katniss suddenly snatches her hands out of her grips and wraps them tightly around herself, and begins to rock back and forth. Madge can barely process that this is indeed Katniss in front of her.

“No,” she sobs. “It wasn’t supposed to be me.”

“What wasn’t supposed to be you?” Madge asks cautiously. She looks to Prim, but she just shakes her head.

“They have Peeta!” Katniss screams wildly. “Nothing is fine! Nothing!”

Madge gasps. She had just assumed that Peeta had been rescued alongside Katniss, the two were practically an inseparable unit. But to imagine, sweet, kind and gentle Peeta, in the dark hands of the Capitol? She suddenly understands why Katniss is more a shadow than a person at the moment.

“Peeta is important,” Madge says firmly, taking even herself by surprise. “The Capitol is many things, but they aren’t stupid. They can use him to help stop the rebellions. Anything. Killing him would just be a waste of a resource, and you know how they are about anything they can use.”

Katniss stops shaking, and looks up at Madge wearily.

“What?” Katniss whispers, as if she’s almost afraid if she speaks any louder Madge will disappear.

“I’m saying, is that you need to believe in Peeta,” Madge says softly, pulling Katniss in for a hug. Her breath is warm and shaky against her ear, and she smells vaguely of vomit. “He’s smart, if he was able to strike an alliance with the career’s before, I’m sure he can protect himself once more.”

Katniss doesn’t return her hug, but remains very still in Madge’s embrace. When Madge finally looks back, Katniss almost looks like the girl Madge used to know. Almost.

“Believe in him,” Katniss repeats. Madge is playing with fire, by feeding Katniss this hope, but she reasons, if she can climb out of this slump, trained therapists can help her make sure she doesn’t fall into a deeper one if something really does happen to Peeta.

Madge really really  _ really _ hopes nothing happens to Peeta. Of all the people she knows, sweet Peeta deserves least of all pain of any kind.

“It’s getting late,” Prim says suddenly. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright Katniss?”

Katniss just nods, still thinking over what Madge has said. Madge follows Prim out of the room and waits tensely for the younger girl to say something. To yell at her for dangling Peeta like that in front of her heartbroken sister.

“Thank you,” Prim says softly, taking Madge by surprise. “I told you, you’d cheer her up.”

“I wouldn’t really call that cheering up,” Madge says wryly. “Aren’t you mad?”

Prim frowns. “Why would I be mad?”

“I could be completely wrong!” Madge explains. “Peeta could be dead right now. What if I just fed her false hope that’ll crush her later?”

“I tried to tell her the same thing,” Prim says with a chuckle. “But I couldn’t word it as well as you. I don’t think there’s a such thing as false hope. When there’s a will, there’s a way, right?”

Madge stares at the girl standing before her.

“Somehow, I find it hard to believe you would have trouble with words,” Madge teases, but she’s actually pretty serious.

“I can’t be perfect all the time,” Prim giggles.

* * *

Hazelle and Posy are already asleep when she comes back, so she’s extra quiet as she goes about her nighttime routine.

As she crawls into bed, scooting close to Posy’s small body, Madge replays her conversation with Katniss.

Katniss.

She and Madge are the same age, and yet Katniss had already survived practically two games. And she continues to fight. She continues to fight through the anguish of being rescued over Peeta. Even before the whole world went to hell, Katniss would fight everyday for the survival of herself and her family in a merciless system. Madge no longer feels guilty about anything she said to Katniss; she knows that Katniss would have put herself together by herself eventually, because that was what Katniss was: a fighter, a survivor-all Madge had done was act as a catalyst for the process.

She turns onto her back and stares into the darkness. Madge has her own fight. The Capitol took her parents and her home away from her. Under Snow’s regime, she never really had a future to begin with. The games had stolen Mother away from her before she was even born.

Was she going to just duck her head and live her life down in 13, while above ground men and women laid their lives down for truth, for justice? Was that not the very cause that Father had given his life for? More importantly, could she really hide out down here, while war loomed above?

She remembers how she had felt, when it was agreed upon that Madge was vital to the success of the camp. How useful, how  _ purposeful _ she’d been. She remembers growing up, feeling a tight pressure in between her ribs at the fact that there was nothing she could do to abate the mass suffering around her. How she craved it so badly, she nearly tasted it, the fight for freedom- to unshackle themselves from the Capitol, and stretch out their limbs, growing blooming and  _ living _ .

Madge Undersee wasn’t born for inaction. She had proved that when she had handed Katniss the pin. When she recited newspaper articles to Mr. Abernathy. When she ran through a blizzard with morphling. For the first time in her life, she had the freedom to choose a life whatever she saw fit.

And she’d be damned to choose one that didn’t quench her hunger for a better world.

Madge was going to enroll in combatives.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried really hard in this chapter to make sure Madge didn't come across as ooc, I hope I was successful. How'd I do?


	9. Al!

 

Hate is a strong word, and one should always be careful when assigning it as an emotion to be wielded. At least, that’s what Madge thought. There was already too much hatred in their world; if she could lessen, by just a drop, then she would.

Before, there used to be only one thing she hated: The Capitol, and anything related to it. But now, since her move to 13, she’s able to add one more thing to her very small list of hatred.

_Cardio_

She felt like a fool, running laps. It didn’t help that she had started with hardly any stamina, and more often than not, was huffing and puffing more than any other girl on the track.

True to her word, she ended up signing up for the same training course as Delly. Bristel hadn’t seemed too enthused at the idea, but she didn’t argue either, so on that first day the three of the them had arrived together, each eager in their own way about the impending training.

Madge was also relieved that she no longer had to dishes, and would soon be training towards what she thought to be fulfilling work.

Regina, her boss, had been happy too. Well, as happy as a woman who never smiles can be.

“Heading into training then?” the older woman had asked her when Madge showed her the official termination code printed on her forearm. “Somebody else’s problem now.”

Madge tried not to take too much offense.

The set up in 13 was simple. You graduate from school, you enroll in basic training, which everyone has to take, and once you decide which career route you want to take, you study and or train to meet the entrance qualification for said program and then enroll in that. Anyone from 12 who had wanted a job beyond what they had been assigned enrolled in hybrid classes that crammed years of knowledge into a few weeks. Now that that was over, they were eligible to begin their military training, though they were at a severe disadvantage; the citizens of 13 are raised to be soldiers practically from the womb, while the most involved fight 12 citizens had ever been in was against starvation.

Bristel who had decided on System’s Engineering, will be done with basic training in about a week. After that she has to study until she’s able to pass the prerequisite exams.

“That’s a lot to learn,” Delly had commented wearily as the three of them looked through Bristel’s study tablet. That was another thing Madge learned about 13. Paper was an extremely rare commodity down here, whatever could be digitalized, was, and once you decided on a career path, you were assigned a tablet with the required material downloaded onto it.

“Yeah…” Bristel agreed, as she scrolled through the arithmetic section. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Of course you can!” Madge exclaimed. “You’re a genius.”

“No I’m _not_ ,” Bristel said angrily. “We were hardly schooled in 12- everyone knew they were going to go down in the mines or pick up their family’s business. I have no foundation to learn this stuff on.”

“Then _build_ it Bristel,” Madge encouraged. “Just because you weren’t taught something then doesn’t mean you can’t learn something now.”

Then there was Delly, who was so sweet that she won over even blase Bristel, but had no idea what to do.

“There are just so many options!” she had cried when the girls had looked through the digital catalogue on the wall of the training room. “I can’t choose!”

“Don’t rush it,” Bristel said with a shrug. “You’ll know when you know.”

Bristel had been less supportive when Madge told her what she planned on doing.

 _“You want to go into_ what?” Bristel had practically shouted.

“Combat,” Madge repeated evenly. “I want to be a soldier.”

“Oh, Madge,” Delly had shaken her head, seemingly lost, for the first time in her life, for words.

“Have you thought this true?” Bristel asked incredulously. “Like really think it through? You could _die_ up there! Do I have to remind you that you couldn’t even climb up a _tree_?!”

“That’s why I’m going to go through training,” Madge said patiently. After all, she had had similar thoughts herself when she had first considered the prospect. “And yes, I have thought this through. I can’t sit back and let someone fight my fight. I’ve had enough of slinking in the shadows.”

Bristel had looked like she wanted to argue more, but Delly had put a hand on her shoulder.

“This is up to Madge,” Delly told Bristel. “Our job is to support her.”

According to Bristel and Delly, support was laughing at her as she struggled to keep a brisk running tempo, while they both jogged at a leisurely slow pace.

“Come on soldier!” Bristel hounds. “You need to finish your mile in what, a minute?”

“You can do it!” Delly cheers as Madge breaks into a sprint. Bristel is right, she really does only have a minute to complete her final lap, and all the other girls planning on going into combat have finished already. Basic training is split into a section for women and men, and within that it’s split into pre combat students and those that aren’t. Pre combat students are held to higher standards than everyone else, which makes sense on paper, but sucks in reality when you’re lifting weights and your friends are tossing a ball back and forth.

She crosses the white line with a whopping .47 seconds left on the clock, nearly doubled over as she gasps desperately for air.

“Well,” Captain Vox says dryly. “It seems that you all have passed your final qualification of a 7 minute mile. As of today, you should be in top physical condition Your final test will be next week, in which you’ll have to complete a random obstacle course in under 10 minutes, and after that you’ll move on to specialized training.”

Madge was excited. These past few weeks had been brutal on her body. Every night, when she would return to her shared room, she would collapse in bed and fall asleep almost instantly, even if Posy was nowhere in her vicinity. But she had persisted, and was proud to say that she _could_ run a seven minute mile, do 50 pushups, and 100 curl ups. While she still needed more work on her upper body strength, Madge had learned that she was amazingly flexible.The first time she had been able to a splits, both Bristel and Delly had cheered her on like crazy, and her acrobatics had only increased from there. The practicality of being able to put your foot behind your head was debatable, but Madge was still smug that she was the only girl in her class to do that, despite all the other 13 girls training like this all their lives.   

The combat girls, or CG as Madge had dubbed in her mind began to disperse, no doubt to resume their training for the course. Madge was about to see off too, when Vox called her back.

“Yes Captain?” Madge asks once she’s in front of the Captain. Vox has a severe looking face, but next to no eyebrows, which throws her entire look.

“You barely made it there today, Undersee,” Vox says harshly. “This isn’t 12 anymore. You’re competing with 13 women, who have been raised as warriors from the cradle. Did you know that only the top five of your class will be allowed on the frontlines?”

Madge _hadn’t_ known that, and her stomach sinks like lead.

“Yes, Ma'am,” was all Madge could whisper.

“Take my advice Undersee,” Vox laughs meanly. “And quit.”

Madge’s entire face flames with humiliation. A part of her wants to scream in rage and another cry in shame. But she hasn’t come this far only to come this far, and she’ll be damned if she allows Vox to discourage her now.

“The human body is an amazing thing,” Madge says firmly. “And the mind even more so. It’s incredible to watch what it can accomplish, once it’s decided on something.”

And then Madge turns around and walks away from her commanding officer without being excused, but in that moment, she doesn’t care.

Bristel and Delly are hanging by a water cooler, drinking from metal cups. Madge marches up to them and snatches a cup off the cooler, impatiently filling it up.

“Everything ok?” Delly asks, touching Madge’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Madge lies. “No,” she corrects truthfully. “Vox thinks I should quit.”

Bristel, for her part, doesn’t burst into an _I told you so_.

“Well,” Delly says. “Do _you_ think you should quit?”

“No!” Madge snaps, nearly emptying the cup in one swing. “Sure I’m not as fast or as strong as them, but that’s because I’ve had, what? A few weeks? While they’ve been doing this forever!”

“Then it’s settled, isn't it?” Delly asks as if it’s obvious.

“I just wish someone would believe in me,” Madge confesses, looking down at her black combat shoes.

“You took down Lewis’s son, John back in the woods,” Bristel reminds her. “I think there’s always been a fighter inside of you, you’ve just had to keep her in her verbal form.”

Madge smiles at her friends gratefully. “You’re right.”

“What’re you waiting around for, go train!” Delly shoos her off with a grin and Madge laughs and goes off.

She decides to have a go with the rock climbing wall. She tells herself it’s not out of any lingering bitterness over not having been able to climb up that blasted tree, and that something similar is bound to make its appearance in the obstacle course. 

She hasn’t made any friends with the CG girls. It certainly doesn’t help that they’re all from 13, and much taller than Madge. She’s the only blonde CG too, now that she thinks about it. No matter, she’s more than used to being ostracized over things she has no control over, and takes comfort in being able to train in silence.

There aren’t any harnesses to strap into, so Madge sets off with no prep. She’s making good time, and finds herself settling into a comfortable pattern: search, find, grab, hoist. As she makes her way up the wall, she finds herself growing angry at Vox all over again. So what that she had been consistently coming in last?

Madge deflates at this. That _was_ a big deal, and like Vox said, only the top five of her class would be allowed to fight up above. What was she going to do when she came in dead last?  Duck her head and shamefully resume dish washing duties? Regina probably wouldn’t even take her back.

Upset, Madge leaps up to grab hold of the two rocks a little above her, but in all her worrying, she hadn’t calculated the jump accurately enough, and misses her grip. Madge falls.

A shriek has just escaped her lips when she makes contact with the ground, a stinging pain shooting up her leg from her ankle.

“Undersee!” Vox barks, her black boots coming into Madge’s line of vision from her spot on the ground. “What happened?”

“I fell,” Madge answers through gritted teeth, clutching her calf tightly as she blinks out tears from her eyes as quickly as she can. It was just her _luck_ that she’d fall off the wall like a complete idiot right after being told to quit. Maybe the odds really weren’t in her favor.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Vox says once she examines her ankle. “Cartwright! Allose!”

Delly and Bristel quickly rush over.

“Help Undersee to the hospital wing,” Vox orders before walking off, as if it didn’t even matter to her that Madge is on the ground writhing in pain.

“Don’t worry Madge, we’ve got you!” Delly cries as she and Bristel awkwardly fumble before tucking themselves under her arms and slipping a hand under her thighs. “One time when I was little I fell down the stairs and did my ankle a real number I’ll tell you-”

Delly continues her story as she and Bristel slowly carry her to the hospital, with Madge feeling totally hopeless. A few people passing by give them strange looks, but say nothing to them.

Delly must have sensed her sad mood, because she gives Madge a sly smile.

“You know Madge, I’ve always been jealous of your hips,” Delly tells her conspiratorially.

“What?” Madge asks incredulously. “Have you seen me? I look like a little girl that someone stacked an old woman’s hips onto!”

“Are you kidding me?” Bristel snorted. “Your wide hips make your waist look tiny, which goes on and makes your boobs look huge.”

“Bristel is right,” Delly continues. “You’re what, a B-cup? I’m a double D, but between the two of us, your bust looks almost as big as mine.”

“Does not!” Madge insists, looking down at her chest and then at Delly’s. There was no way her breasts appeared as big as Delly’s, was there?”

“Oh please,” Bristel huffs. “You have nice boobs and you know it. Both of you. And I’m over here with an ironing board for a chest.”

“Don’t say that!” Delly protests. “Everything about you is sleek and slender, just like your gorgeous hair.”

“Delly is right,” Madge agrees. “You have the shiniest hair I’ve ever seen. You’re a knockout, girl.”

“You think so?” Bristel asks with a shy smile.

Delly stops suddenly, which jerks Madge awkwardly since Bristel stops a moment later.

“Ok, I want the two of you to repeat after me: I am a beautiful young woman, and I can do anything!”

Madge and Bristel share a look.

“I am a beautiful young woman, and I can do anything!” the three of them chorus, and begin to giggle. Two men walk by them briskly and give them a disgusted look, but Madge pays them n o mind, she feels a lightness within her. So what she fell off that blasted wall? She was human, an accident was bound to happen. Beside, she still had a week to improve her stats, and if she didn’t get into combat, then it just wasn’t meant to be.

Once they reach the hospital wing, a staff member directs Bristel and Delly to a room where they seat Madge on an examining table.

“My word,” Delly groans once she’s no longer holding her. “You’re light as a feather Madge, but my arms feel like dead weights.”

“Mine too,” Bristel grumbles, rubbing her bicep.

“Thank you so much guys,” Madge tells than sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re stuck with us Madge,” Bristel teases, but her smile is real.

Delly opens her mouth, no doubt to begin a long monologue on friendship which, while Madge has no doubt will be utterly sweet, will make them late.

“You two should head back,” Madge quickly says. “Vox will mark you absent if you aren’t there at the end of class.”

So after a big hug from Delly, Madge waits to be seen. And then her Doctor walks in.

“Prim!” Madge greets happily. “Are you going to be my Doctor today?”

“Doctor’s assistant,” Prim corrects merrily. “But yes! Now what’s this about your ankle?”

Prim is quick in her examination, and even quicker in her diagnosis.

“It’s just a sprain,” she tells her as she types something into her tablet. “I’ll get you some crutches. Keep your weight off it for at least a day and then see if you’re able to resume normal activities again.”

“Will do,” Madge nods her head in appreciation.

Prim leaves and returns with the crutches, which has cuffs for Madge to put her arms through, and a bar half-way down the crutch for her to clutch.

“They’re forearm crutches,” Prim explains as she helps Madge insert her arms into the cuffs. “They’re easier on the upper body than underarm ones.”

“Huh,” Madge says, as she experiments walking with the crutches. She’s a bit wobbly, but with a little guidance with Prim, she feels more confident in them.

“So,” Prim says with an arched eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me how you sprained your ankle now?”

Madge looks resolutely at the wall. “I...fell off the rock climbing wall.”

“Oh!” Prim says, surprised. “I didn’t know they did anything that intensive in basic training.”

“That’s because…” Madge debates if she should tell Prim her plans, especially when they seem so unlikely. “I’m trying out for combat.”

“Wow!” Prim exclaims, taking Madge by surprise. “That’s really cool!”

“Yeah, well, I probably won’t make it,” Madge admits sadly. “Only the top five of the class go on to combat, and I’m at a whopping last place.”

“You don’t need to in top five to be an army medic,” Prim says, making Madge shoot her head up. “You just need to pass the preliminary exams. They go to to front lines with the soldiers.”

“I never even considered that!” Madge exclaims with a laugh. “Prim, you’re a genius!”

“Am not!” Prim insists modestly. “I just heard a few guys talking about it. One of them had been in a similar position as you.”

Army medic. All the action, without any of the killing, which, if Madge was being perfectly honest, was something she hadn’t been totally ok with. But now, it's like everything fell into place.

“I need to fall down walls more often,” Madge says with a grin. “Because you offer some really good advice when I really need it.”

Prim smiles before glancing over at the clock on the wall. “I wish I could talk more, but I’ve got some tools to sterilize.”

“Of course,” Madge says quickly. “Do you think I could visit Katniss, since I’m here?” she hadn’t seen Katniss since her last visit, and she missed her friend terribly.

Prim’s face falls. “Not right now,” she says quietly. “She got in a...scuffle with a few Doctors and ended up giving herself a concussion.”

The idea of Katniss taking on several Doctors on her own does not surprise Madge in the least, though she does cringe at the concussion part.

“Ouch. I can unfortunately empathize with the concussion part,” Madge says. “Give her my love, then, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Prim agrees with a happy smile.

So Madge hobbles out of the hospital, once more earning looks for passerby’s. Truthfully, she’s feeling a bit self-conscious at the moment, she’s never had a visible disability like this before, and feels extremely vulnerable.

Madge stops in her one-footed tracks. What was she going to tell Hazelle? She had decided to let her know once she was enrolled in combatives what she was going to do, but now with two crutches, there was no way she could skirt around the truth, at least, not with a clear conscious.

Sighing, Madge turns around and makes her way to the 5th level, which is designated for recreation. It’s themed to look as if it’s the outdoors, but the painted woods just depress Madge, especially after she’s lived amongst the real ones. Still, there’s a lone bookshelf somewhere in the large, one-room level. She’ll camp out there and read a few books before going back and facing the inevitable.

Walking with crutches turns out to be a lot harder than just normally walking, and by the time Madge reaches the fifth level, her arms are sore and her lower back aches. She moves towards the bookshelf, that sports a lone visitor that looks to be a much older man which makes sense since it's still working hours, when a glint of gold catches her eyes There, tucked between a net made for children to climb and a mat to play on is a door, with words on a small golden plaque so faded, she can barely make them out:

_Music Room_

Madge gasps, and immediately hobbles over to the door, and prays that her level two security badge will grant her access to the room. As her badge is being scanned, Madge holds her breath until the light above the door handle turns green and makes a small _beep!_ noise, allowing her access.

She pushes open the door with a shoulder and hops inside. It’s a dimly lit room with no windows. There are three chairs scattered around, a guitar propped up against the wall, a drum set sitting in the middle of the room, and there, besides the farthest wall from her, a _piano_.

“ _Oh,_ ” Madge breathes, her throat tightening in happiness. She knows there’s no way her beloved piano could have survived the bombing, and had assumed that she would never get to play the instrument again. But it was here, a small, wooden, baby grand piano, waiting for her to run her fingers along its keys.

She’s just about reached the piano, when from under it, pops out a man with silver hair.

“Thought you were from the labs,” he says, as if that explains why he was hiding. Madge recognizes his accent right away: _Capitol._

As they stare at each other, Madge realizes he isn’t a man, but a boy, no doubt just a few years older than herself. His features are attractive, but in an almost feminine way, from his gaunt cheeks to his thin, arched brows, and thickly lashed eyes. His most prominent feature, however, is his hair. Silver and sticking up madly all over the place, as if he had just been electrocuted.

“I’m not from the labs,” Madge says slowly, unsure of what to make of his sudden, unexpected presence. She won’t lie and say the fact that’s he’s from the Capitol doesn’t make her wary of him, more so than any other stranger.

“But of course, that would have been absurd,” he laughs, revealing his extremely straight teeth. Madge is suddenly self-conscious of her own dental alignment, her bottom front teeth are stacked against each other almost diagonally. He must have had some procedure done in the Capitol that had straightened them out.

“Do you mind if I play the piano, then?” Madge asks politely, deciding it’s best not to strike up a conversation with the strange boy.

“Do _you_ mind if I listen?” he counters, stepping back so she has access to the bench.

Madge just shrugs. She _wants_ him to leave, but he hasn’t done anything rude, so she won’t either.

“Allow me” he says, pulling out the bench so she’s able to sit on it. Once she’s settled, she removes her arms from the crutches. He pushes the bench in for her and Madge gives him a small smile.

She flexes her fingers as she considers what to play. Then, she runs her fingers along the keys, just re-familiarizing herself with the instrument. She really had missed the piano.

Finally, she plays a simple tune, one of the very first one’s Father had taught her. It was a bit awkward at first, working the pedals with only one foot, but she managed. Once that song ended, her hands moved automatically to a more complex one, a song she used to play to help Mother manage pain when the morphling was taking too long to work.

Her eyes are closed, and she’s in a world where only the sweet vibrations coming from the piano and her exist, and everything is ok, everything is at her fingertips. There’s no pain, no anxiety, no fear. Just calm.

Her fingers slow, and Madge blinks her eyes open.

“That was...sensational,” the silver haired boy whispers, taking Madge by surprise. She had forgotten he was there.

She shifts on the bench to look at him sitting on the ground. His narrow eyes are a strange mix of brown and green, a color she’s never seen before in the eyes. She also notices that he’s wearing a non-standard watch on his right wrist. A quick glance at the badge hanging off his belt loop answers her every question.

He had a security clearance of 12. The highest one could have was 13.

He must’ve noticed where she was looking because he jerks uncomfortably so that his badge is hidden from her.

“Where are my manners?” he asks rhetorically, extending a naturally tan hand for her to shake. “My name is Almonio Herst. I’m part of the Technology Expansion Project.”

Madge reaches over to shake his hand. “I’m Madge Undersee. I just got here from 12 about a month ago.”

“Sensational!” Almonio exclaims. “I knew you were from 12!”

“How?” Madge asks, tilting her head in curiosity.

“You have very white teeth,” he tells her, squinting at her mouth. “I believe it’s due to the constant exposure of charcoal from the coal in your District; the carbon is activated and cleans the teeth of any yellowing.”

Madge puts a hand to her mouth in surprise. She had never thought of her, or anyone else’s teeth from 12 as particularly white, but now that she thought about it, she hadn’t ever  seen anyone with very yellow teeth either.

“You have a sharp eye, Almonio,” Madge compliments genuinely.

“Oh, please, call me Al,” he says with a wave of her hand. “My Father had developed a breakthrough in industrial aluminium synthesis, and when I was born about a year later, he decided to name me after his favorite element.”

“That’s why I dyed my hair silver,” Al explains, pointing to his unruly hair. “To complete the look.”

“I just thought you had a poor diet that lead to early aging,” Madge admits with a giggle.

“That’s absurd!” Al argues, but his eyes are amused. “A boy, as beautiful as me, in rapid decline? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Self-praise is no praise at all,” Madge says slyly.

“Not a praise if you’re just stating a fact,” Al says, with a wink of his eye.

Suddenly, Madge is aware of _where_ she is and with _whom_.

“I should go,” Madge says quickly, grabbing her crutches from where they’re propped up against the piano.

“Wait!” Al quickly gets up off the floor and holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I really didn’t mean anything by it! I just haven’t spoken to anyone my age in...months.”

“It’s ok,” Madge reassures him, deciding to accept his apology for being too forward. “But I really should go.”

“Do you think we can meet up again tomorrow?” Al asks hopefully. “I really loved hearing you play.”

“I don’t know….” Madge says hesitantly, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Was he trying to make a pass at her or not?

“I’m sorry,” Al apologizes again. “I don’t know how they do things in 12. If you can only meet with guys with a chaperone or something, the last thing I want to do is cross a line of yours.”

“You’re not, don’t worry,” Madge reassures him once more. “I just don’t feel comfortable making plans with a stranger.”

Al deflates at this, before his eyes brighten with an idea.

“What if I brought a few of my blueprints with me tomorrow?” Al suggests excitedly. “That way you’re not meeting with a stranger, but a...teacher! And when you see how much I love my work, you’ll realize I’m not awkwardly flirting with you.”

Madge laughs at this, and relaxes a bit. To be honest, she _is_ a bit curious about what he does, especially with a security clearance like that. Suddenly, befriending someone who knows the inside of the Capitol and 13 seems like a brilliant idea. Back in 12, she knew the District like the back of her hand, and she hated being in the dark now.

“Alright,” Madge agrees. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Sensational!” Al cheers. “I’ll try, it depends on how many bodyguards they have posted to keep me from sneaking out.”

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble?” Madge asks with a frown.

“Oh, I’ll definitely get into trouble,” Al replies with a cheeky grin. “But I’m too handsome to stay mad at.”

“Now I know you’re not flirting with me,” Madge says dryly. “You’re clearly infatuated with yourself.”

“What’s not to love?” Al laughs. Madge realizes somewhere in the conversation she had stopped noticing his accent.

“Before you go,” Al says once they’re at the door. “Is your name actually Madge?”

“No,” Madge shakes her head. “It’s a nickname for Margaret.”

“I never tire of being right,” Al shakes his head while grinning. “I knew Madge couldn’t be your name. Can I call you Margaret?”

Madge blinks. No one has made that request before. “Um, sure. But why?”

Al shrugs. “After seeing you playing the piano, all I can associate you with is sophistication, and Margaret just sounds fancier than Madge.”

A Capitol boy found _her_ , a girl from 12 _sophisticated_? Everyday held a new surprise.

“I’m not the kind of girl that meets up with boys indiscriminately,” Madge warns, her hand on the door handle. “If you try anything tomorrow, I’ll whoop you with my crutch.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, I shan’t ever lay a hand of mine on you, lady Margaret,” Al vows dramatically.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Madge mutters with an eye roll. Al holds open the door as she hops outside. “See you tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow, Margaret.”

Madge is still thinking about her strange new...acquaintance. He had seemed nice enough, but she had been serious about bashing his head with her crutch if he tried anything. He was good looking no doubt, but Madge unfortunately seemed to have permanently loaned out her heart to a total brute, and she wasn’t a loose woman, letting men she didn’t know near her body.

She opens the door to Hazelle’s room, and nearly groans at the sight of Gale.

“What the hell happened?” Gale demands, plucking Posy off his lap and leaping up.

Madge is tempted to say something like ‘none of your business’, but Vick and Rory are in the room too, and that would be setting a bad example to the kids.

“Training accident,” Madge mumbles as as hops into the room.

“Your training is walking a few laps, playing hopscotch and learning how to hold a gun,” Gale points out suspiciously. “How did you get hurt doing that?”

Posy walks over to Madge and touches the metal crutch in awe. “Shiny!”

“I’ve read about this on my tablet,” Vick whispers loudly to Rory. “It’s called a cyborg, Madge has started the transformation!”

“Hey Madge, is everything on you real?” Rory asks deviously, eyes trained on her chest, making Madge’s face flame. Nimble footed Rory isn’t quick enough to dodge Gale’s punch, and cries out as he clutches his bicep in pain.

“Answer my question!” Gale demands once more, after sending his brothers a silencing glare. Posy is too busy stroking the shiny metal.

“I fell off the rock climbing wall, ok?” Madge admits with a frustrated groan, sinking into a chair and pulling off the crutches. Vick immediately runs over and pulls them away from an indignant Posy.

“Why were you on the wall,” Gale says slowly, a dangerous look crossing his eyes.

Madge keeps her eyes on Vick and Posy, who are in a tug of war for the crutches. “It’s for training.”

“Training for _what_?”

“Combatives,” Madge answers in a whisper.

“YOU ARE NOT GOING INTO COMBAT!” Gale yells, louder than she has ever heard him. It made Posy lose her grip on the crutches momentarily, and Vick quickly grabbed them and scampered on top of Madge’s cot.

“And why not?” Madge shouts, every drop of her patience for Gale Hawthorne had been drained long ago. Madge prides herself on being a very cool-headed individual, but she can no longer cap her anger. “Who are _you_ to tell me what I can or cannot do?!”

“Your _Father_ left _me_ in charge of _you_!” Gale shouts back, standing right in front of her now, glowering down at her. Nowadays, she resolutely ignores him , so she's missed the muscle he's put on. Gale has impossibly become bigger. “Or do I need to remind you?”

“No he did _not_ !” Madge exclaims indignantly. “He just asked for you to help me out of the District, that’s all!”  
  
“Oh!” Rory gasps loudly, pulling both Madge and Gale’s attention. Even little Posy stops in her efforts of trying to jump onto the cot, where Vick has strapped Madge’s crutches onto himself. “Gale, don’t you see, there’s a really easy way to stop Madge!”

“Which is?” Gale demands impatiently.

“Marry her, and get her pregnant,” Rory suggests with a wicked smirk.

Madge can’t stop the scandalized gasp that escapes her mouth, and Gale lunges forward, no doubt to decapitate Rory, or something along those lines. Rory is just able to barricade himself into Madge’s closet before Gale closes in on him.

“Open these doors you bastard!” Gale shouts, trying to shove the door open, while Rory tries to hold it closed from inside.

“Don’t hurt him, Gale!” Madge pleads, getting up, and realizing that she doesn’t have her crutches to help her.

“Vick, what’s pregnant?” Posy asks innocently.

Vick looks away from Gale trying to murder Rory, which he was watching a bit too gleefully. “It’s when a woman has a baby in her tummy.”

Posy spins around immediately, her eyes wide. “Sissy, you have Gale’s baby in your tummy!”

“No no no!” Madge cries frantically, but it’s too late. Posy flings herself at Madge, which makes Madge put weight on her bad ankle, causing her to instantly crumple into the chair, an elated Posy in her lap.

“Yay yay yay!” Posy cheers, bouncing up and down.

“What on _earth_ is going on here?”

Everyone in the room looks up to see Hazelle, a towel around her long hair, freshly emerged from the bathroom. Rory is half visible from his hiding spot in the closet, Gale has both hands on the closet door, with a foot braced against the wall for extra support, and Vick is standing on Madge’s cot, both crutches in the air.

“Gale put a baby in Madge’s tummy!” Posy tells her Ma excitedly. “I’m gonna play with it all day!”

“I didn’t put anything in her!”

“No he didn’t!”

Both Gale and Madge’s simultaneous refutal is lost on Hazelle’s ears as she stares at Madge with wide eyes.

“Oh dear Lord,” she whispers, as she slumps against a wall. “That’s why you’ve been so exhausted lately.”

“Hazelle, I _swear_ I’m not pregnant,” Madge isn’t sure if she’s ever been more humiliated in her life. “Those crutches Vick are holding are mine. I got hurt in training today.”

“And how did that end up with you being pregnant?” Hazelle asks in disbelief.

“That’s because this punk _here_ ,” Gale points to Rory in the closet. “Decided to make a dumbass joke.”

“You’re not having a baby?” Posy asks, her large silver eyes growing glassy. “Who will I play with then?”

“Oh, Posy,” Madge sighs, pulling the girl into a hug. “I play with you now, don’t I?”

“But what about when you leave?” Posy wails into her shoulder.

Madge looks up at Hazelle desperately for help, but the older woman just shakes her head sadly.

“You have us Pose,” Gale reminds her, sounding a bit hurt. “We’ll always play with you.”

“It’s not the same!” Posy cries, burrowing deeper into Madge.

“Shh,” Madge consoles, rubbing her back comfortingly. “Even if I don’t live with you, you can always play with me, ok? Because I’m your Sissy.”

“Gale let your brother out of that closet,” Hazelle orders with a hard glare. “Vick, Rory, why don’t you two take Posy to dinner, we’ll catch up.”

Once the three of them leave, Hazelle sighs and rubs her forehead tiredly. “Will one of you properly walk me through why I just walked into a zoo?”

“Madge wants to go into _combat_!” Gale exclaims. “Ma, tell her why that’s the stupidest idea ever.”

A look of understanding crosses Hazelle’s face before she turns to Madge. “Madge, are you sure this is something you want to do?”

“Yes, it is,” Madge says with a resolute nod.

“Are you kidding me?” Gale cries incredulously. “Undersee, the only thing your hands did well back in 12 was playing a piano. What are you going to do, provide battlefield music?”

“These _hands_ ,” Madge snaps. “Have done more than that, they always have. This is my decision Gale. You don’t have to respect it, but you can’t stop me from pursuing it.”

“Do you want to die?” Gale asks bluntly. “Is this an elaborately planned suicide? There are therapists down here that can help you.”

“No, I don’t want to die,” Madge answers through clenched teeth. “I want to live, but in a world where I made a difference.”

“You can make plenty of difference without putting your life at risk,” Hazelle points out hopefully.

“I know that,” Madge sighs. “But I’m tired of letting someone else fight my fight. I want to lie in bed at night knowing I was physically instrumental in the collapse of the Capitol. Any other victory would just feel hollow.”

“Ma, tell her-”

“Gale,” Hazelle cuts her son off with a small shake of her head. “I didn’t want you in combat either, but it’s what you wanted to do. If this is really what Madge wants as well, then you need to accept that, like how I accepted it with you.”

“Fine,” Gale sneers, stalking over to the door. “If you have a death wish, who am I to deny it, besides the guy who saved your life?”

“I saved yours first,” Madge reminds him levelly.

Gale freezes at the door, his hand on the handle, back stiff.

He glances over at her, and her eyes widen at the pain in his normally hard eyes.

“I know,” he whispers, and leaves, the door closing quietly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this seemed to be almost a filler chapter, but I needed to introduce my dear boy Al before things can really get going... You have no idea how badly I've wanted to introduce Al. I WAS going to end this ch with no Gadge, but I couldn't do that to you guys. Anyways, how'd I do?
> 
> Next chapter- things will really get spicy >:)


	10. Signs

Madge is able to sleep in for the first time since her arrival to 13. She had gotten up at 6, just as everyone else, but Prim must have flagged her name, because the schedule tattoo only had her meal times allocated.

She had wanted to roll back into bed, but she had stayed up a little longer, doing Posy’s hair while Hazelle freshened up. Posy was still in a downcast mood since she had learned that there was, in fact, no baby in her tummy, but seemed to perk up a bit when Madge did her hair in two buns instead of her regular ponytails.

“I look like a lady!” Posy had squealed excitedly, no doubt imagining the military women that were seen around 13 in their tight, no nonsense buns.

“You look beautiful,” Madge told her, kissing her soft cheek.

Her morning encounter with Hazelle had been more awkward. The night before, after a Gale-free dinner was eaten and Posy was tucked in for bed, Hazelle had sat Madge down for perhaps the most excruciating conversation Madge had ever been a part of. And she’d had her fair share of cringey exchanges.

“So,” Hazelle had begun, looking just as uncomfortable as Madge felt. “How long have you and Gale…”

Madge had choked on her spit. She had been expecting a lecture, yes, but not an outright assumption that she and Gale were...she couldn’t even bring herself to think the word.

“We’ve never!” Madge squeaked, blushing furiously. “Ever, not even once!”

“Alright, alright,” Hazelle had sighed. “I believe you. But when the time comes, do you know how to-”

“Hazelle!” Madge had broken in hastily. “That won’t  _ ever _ be happening. There’s nothing like that going on between us.”

“Right,” Hazelle said in a voice that told Madge she didn’t believe Madge in the slightest, which just further flustered Madge. “Regardless, whether you do it with Gale or anyone else, do you know how to protect yourself from….the consequences?”

Madge groans, digging her head deeper into her pillow as she tries to block out the rest of the conversation from her brain. She glances over at her clock. 10 till noon.

Slowly, she pushes herself up and runs a hand through her messy hair. She isn’t a morning person by any accounts, but she doesn’t habitually sleep till midday, and feels bad about wasting so much of the day.

She’s hitching on her crutches when a knock on the door makes her pause. That’s odd. Hazelle had said something about taking Posy to a junior choir interest meeting that was put together by other Mothers, and they were supposed to meet up at dinner.

“Come in,” Madge calls out cautiously.

“Hi Madge!” Delly greets cheerfully, bounding into the room. “How’s your ankle?

Madge sticks her leg out to examine it. The swelling has gone done, but it still hurts to move it. “Better.”

“Here,” Delly retrieves an apple from her pocket and hands it to Madge. “Since you missed breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Madge says gratefully, before frowning. “Wait, what are you doing here? Don’t you have training?”

“Vox said us non combat girls had more or less completed our training, and granted us ‘preemptive graduation’,”  Delly explains, sitting herself next to Madge on her unmade cot. “Bristel went to her room to start studying for her exams.”   
  
Madge nods. She isn’t at all surprised that Vox would do that. Her disdain for the non CG was clear. 

Delly chats about her morning while Madge quickly chomps down her apple. Once she reaches the core, she flings it into the wastebasket before finally putting on her crutches and heading over to the bathroom. She takes several long sips of water, brushes her teeth, and combs her hair, letting it stay down since she doesn’t have to train today.

When she comes back into the room, Delly is already standing.

“I was thinking about visiting the Greenhouse today,” Delly says. “Wanna come?”

“Sure,” Madge answers quickly. She’s wondered more than once how exactly 13 procures its produce.

The Greenhouse is in the fifth quadrant, hangar 7, level 16. It takes them a while to get there, getting lost more than a few times. By the time they reach the indoor pasture, Madge is moments away from flinging her crutches in frustration. As helpful as they were, they were rather wretched things.

“It’s so warm in here!” Delly gasps, taking in the scenery with a delighted expression. “And look how bright everything is!”

Madge has to admit, with the lighting, warmth, humidity, and rows and rows of various plants, it almost feels as if she’s actually outside. The Greenhouse is bustling with workers that tend to the plants, and they ignore the two girls as they go about their work.

“It smells really nice,” Madge comments, taking in a deep breath.

“It does,” Delly agrees, still wide eyed.

The two of them stand for a moment on a narrow walkway that crisscrosses through the plants, in a grid-like fashion. Madge remembers with a start that this huge room feeds an entire District. The livelihood of thousands of people are tied inextricably to the plants by her feet.

“Can I help you?”

Madge and Delly turn to a jolly looking woman with bright red cheeks.

“I just finished basic training and was thinking about working here,” Delly tells the woman. Madge looks over at Delly in shock- she hadn’t told Madge that! “I wanted to have a look before making a decision.”

“You should have said something!” the woman says cheerfully. “I’ll give you two a tour. The name’s Barbara Switzer, I’m Head Botanist.”

“I’m Delly Cartwright, and this is my friend Madge Undersee,” Delly introduces the two of them excitedly. Madge gives Barbara a polite smile.

“Well, Delly, Madge, let’s start this tour then, hm?” Barbara asks with a smile that pushes up her red cheeks. Madge wonders if being surrounded by plants relaxes her, or her natural temperament is just this nice.

“There are two jobs down here: farm hands, and botanists. The farm hands are the ones that actually tend to the plants, while us botanists observe and record their growth patterns, while also tending to any ailments they may face. Our reports are crucial to our Agriculture Engineers who are constantly working on genetically engineering our crops to grow in the fastest, most nutritious way.”

“As you can see, we operate at an efficiency of 100%,” Barbara says proudly. “Everything is reused and if possible, renewed. At the moment, we’re able to plant, grow, and harvest all within a timespan of one week, which is largely owed to the brilliant work of our engineers, but also from the dedication of my workers.”

“Wow,” Delly breathes. “This really is amazing.”

As Delly and Barbara continue to talk, she trails behind them, Madge catches sight of a man writing something down at the end of a walkaway parallel to the one she was on. Had this been 12, Madge would have made no note of it, but down here in 13, to see someone  _ writing  _  on an actual piece of paper, instead of typing it into their tablet was like watching a pig take flight.

He must have finished whatever he was writing, because he caps his pen, and takes the papers and slips them into a folder. Madge realizes that the gray haired man is dressed very differently from the other greenhouse workers. Instead of downing a gardening smock, rubber gloves, and boots that came to the knee, he simply wore the usual 13 uniform.

“Who is that?” Madge asks, cutting into Delly and Barbara's conversation. “The man that was writing just now.”

For the first time since she’s met her, Barabara frowns.

“He’s from the Department of Internal Affairs. Not one of my men,” Barbara answers. “They’re actually on the floor right above us.”

“Internal Affairs?” Delly repeats, looking confused. “Why is he down here then?”

“He’s part of the Sustainability Division,” Barbara explains. “We’re regularly reviewed to ensure quotas are being met.”

Huh. That didn’t explain why he was actually writing, instead of using a tablet like every other person in the 13. Mystery man leaves the greenhouse, and thus ends their conversation regarding him.

“So, Miss. Cartwright, will I be expecting your application?” Barbara asks good-naturedly, though her eyes are serious.

“Well..” Delly begins. “That depends. I know my starting position will be as a farm hand, but I really would like to move on to becoming a botanist. Do you think that’s reasonable?”

“Reasonable?” Barbara guffaws. “Girly, you show me that thumb of yours is green and you’ll be a botanist by the end of the month.”

Delly is practically buzzing with happiness as they walk to the cafeteria. 

“Did you hear her?” Delly asks for the hundredth time. “She said I could be a botanist by the end of the month!”

“When did you decide you wanted to do this?” Madge asks, a bit hurt Delly hadn’t shared this with her earlier.

“Back in 12, I used to daydream about having a garden,” Delly admits. “Back then, I had just wanted to be surrounded  by pretty flowers. But when we were in the woods, I realized that human’s relationship with plants is beyond beauty and survival. We depend on each other. I know this all sounds silly, but I just really liked that idea, to help nurture a beautiful, helpless life with my own two hands.”

“That isn’t silly in the slightest,” Madge tells her earnestly. “I think that’s a beautiful sentiment, Delly.”

“Thanks,” Dellys says bashfully, as they enter the cafeteria. “By the way, my parents said I could eat with you guys today!”

“Oh?” Hazelle had set the guidelines that breakfast and dinner must be eaten with family, but lunch could be spent with friends. It was actually rather endearing to see Hazelle, a woman who had struggled so tremendously for most of her life, sit around with women her age and just talk and laugh. Posy was too young for friends, so she sat with Hazelle still, but Rory had quickly made many friends at his new school, and the group of boys constantly looked as if they were scheming something. Vick, who was shyer than Rory, still ate with Gale, who kept Prim and Mrs. Everdeen company. Today however, Vick sat with Prim and Mrs. Everdeen with Gale nowhere to be seen. Strange.

“Yep!” Delly says cheerfully. “They’ve finally gotten over their fear of not being together for every second of the day.”

Madge suddenly feels terrible. She’s never once even asked Delly how she and her family were handling the transition. What sort of friend was she?

“How is your family, by the way?” Madge asks as they get in line for food.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Delly answers. “The beginning was hard, but I think it was for everyone. I think now they’re just overjoyed that my younger brother Clarence won’t ever have to stand in a reaping.”

Madge immediately thinks of Vick and Posy, and how they won’t have to either, and smiles. “Glad to hear they’re doing well.”

Delly holds her tray for her since Madge can’t exactly multitask at the moment, and the two of them make their way to Madge’s usual table.

Bristel walks around them and slides into a seat across from Madge. “Hey Delly. Finally eating with us?”

“Yep!” Delly says once more, taking a bite of her sliced peaches. Madge glances over to see Thom hovering uncertainly behind Delly. After meeting her questioning gaze, he quickly walks over and sits across from Delly.

“Oh,” Delly gasps as she notices Thom. Thom pauses in setting down his tray, before quickly sitting down. “It’s you!”

“Me?” Thom asks, looking around as if to make sure Delly is talking to him.

“Yes, you!” Delly gushes. “You’re the boy that cut the fence. You saved my family that night!”

Bristel shoots Madge a  _ is this actually happening _ look, but Madge just watches the exchange unfold in utter amusement.

Thom looks like he just saw the sea split. Even from her diagonal spot across from him, Madge can see the back of his throat, that’s how wide his mouth is open.

“I’ve wanted to thank you, but it was too dark to see your face clearly,” Delly continues. “But I recognized that mole under your eye!”

“It was nothing,” Thom mumbles, eyes humbly downcast.

“Nothing?” Delly asks incredulously. “It was everything! You’re a  _ hero _ .”

Thom’s Seam skin darkens from what she assumes is a blush. Madge looks up to see that Bristel is watching her Uncle very closely, a frown on her face.

“Well, I’m glad you were able to get out,” Thom says graciously, finally looking up from his plate and giving Delly a timid smile. At this point, even Madge was a bit perturbed. Where was the loud-mouthed, socially unaware Thom that made cringey puns?

“Me too,” Delly giggles, before reaching her hand across the table. “I’m Delly Cartwright, by the way. I’m really glad to have met you, finally.”

“Thom Bryne,” Thom introduces himself, as he politely shakes her outstretched hand. “And the pleasure is all mine.”

Madge glances back at Bristel to see that it’s not  _ her _ who’s mouth is hanging wide open. It seems that Madge was right in assuming that this was  _ not _ standard Thom behavior.

“I have to say though,” Thom says. “I know we just met, but I think you’re just  _ peachy _ .”

The three girls stare at him curiously, before Delly gasps.

“Because I’m eating peaches!” she practically squeals, before giggling madly. “Peachy!”

A huge grin begins to spread across Thom’s face, and his eyes are shining with pure happiness. Madge is pretty sure this is the first time in his life that anyone has actually laughed at his pun.

“Well I think,” Delly manages to wheeze, her face bright red from her laughing. “That you’re perfectly ap _ pea _ sing!”

“Because I’m eating peas!” Thom exclaims, his eyes widening in true elation.

“Are you two serious?” Bristel asks disbelievingly. “You both found that funny?”

“Ignore her,” Thom tells Delly. “Mam thinks she ate too many dandelion weeds as a kid, that’s why she’s so bitter.”

“Lighten up, Bristel!” Delly says brightly. “Life is too short to take it seriously!”

“That’s it!” Thom nearly shouts. “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain to this stick in the mud for years! And you did it in one sentence!”

“Oh, you’re exaggerating!” Delly flutters her eyelashes at him and Madge nearly bursts into laughter. This is perhaps the cutest flirtation she’s ever witnessed.

Glancing over at a clock on the wall, Madge realizes it’s practically time for her meetup with Al.

“I’ve gotta go,” Madge announces, slowly standing up, even though she wishes she could stay and watch Thom and Delly fall even deeper in love. “Could one of you throw out my tray?”

“I got it,” Thom says quickly, giving Delly a smile before going off to throw it away.

“What a gentleman!” Delly gushes, her eyes following him. “I should throw away my tray too,” she says, even though she hasn’t finished her lunch, before quickly getting up to follow him.

“What the hell,” Bristel enunciates slowly. “Was that?”

“I think” Madge says, trying very hard not to laugh,”We just witnessed the meeting of two soulmates.”

“What the  _ hell _ ,” Bristel repeats, staring at Thom and Bristel who are talking rather excitedly now by the trashcans.

“Can you swing by my room after dinner?” Madge asks. “Because we seriously need to discuss this more.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bristel answers distractedly.

Madge hobbles her way to the fifth level, and slips into the music room without setback The room is empty.

She decides to play the piano to pass the time. It’s different from yesterday. She had had an audience then, but now, all alone with just her and the music, she’s overcome with both nostalgia and grief. She’ll never be able to play a duet with Father again. Never play a song for Mother while she lies on the sofa next to her. The room that her piano was in had been her favorite, bright and open, with large windows. It was easy to forget she was a property of the Capitol in that room.

Madge folds her arms on top of the keys and rests her head on top of them, the random keys blaring loudly before dimming into silence as her an emotion she had buried so deeply, she had nearly forgotten about it, resurfaces.

Bitterness.

Madge had more memories with her damn piano than with her own Mother. As a child, she couldn’t help the slight resentment she had towards Mother, as she choose to continue mourning her twin, instead of raising her own child. Now she’s dead, and nearly every memory Madge has of her is lying in her bed, looking more ghost than human.

Her bitterness quickly morphs into shame, just like it always did, back in 12. Mother hadn’t asked for crippling headaches. She had always been gentle and loving to Madge on her good days, as few and far apart as they had been. She feels wretched, for thinking ill of her dead Mother. In her heart, she knows she’d trade away anything to hear her Mother’s airy voice, just once more.

“Margaret, are you alright?” Al’s voice is suddenly by her ear, and she sits up, startled.

“Oh, sorry,” Madge apologizes hastily, rubbing her eyes to make sure there aren’t any tears in them. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Al points out, frowning.

“I’m fine,” Madge lies easily. Like she’d pour her heart out to some Capitol boy.

“If you say so,” Al says unsurely.

“I’m sure,” Madge says firmly.

“Well, I brought the blueprints, like I said,” Al holds up his tablet, before sitting down on the floor beside the bench. Madge gets up to join him, but he holds up his hand. “Whoa! A lady shouldn’t have to sit on the ground.”

“I’ll decide that,” Madge nearly growls. She’s sick and tired of men telling her what she can or cannot do.

Al wisely decides not to press the matter any further, and says nothing as she awkwardly settles down next to him.

“Were you able to sneak out without much trouble?” Madge asks as she’s removed her crutches.”

“Ha!” Al laughs. “About a month ago I threatened to kill myself if they didn’t ease up, which ended up with me being placed into the psychiatric ward, which was somehow even more boring than being surrounded by a bunch of science pricks.

“Aren’t  _ you _ a science prick?” Madge asks amusedly.

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Al continues, ignoring her quip. “I got more inventive this time. Told them I had installed a self-destruct button on all my prototypes, and only I had access to the button. I have no doubt they’re furiously skimming through my blueprints, trying to find said button.”

“Why would you install a self-destruct button?” Madge asks incredulously.

“That’s the joke!” Al laughs hysterically. “To think I’d actually put a self-destruct button on something I created. It’s absurd!”

Madge pictures a group of frazzled 13 scientists, looking desperately for a button that doesn’t exist. She can’t help but grin at Al’s mischief.

“Well, I promised you to show you my work. What do you know about Aerospace Science?” Al asks, once he stops laughing.

“Not much,” Madge admits sheepishly. She’s never even heard of the term before.

“To put it simply, it’s designing and building things to blast off into space,” Al explains with a grin. “That’s what my technical background is.”

“Space?” Madge asks with a frown. “What could possibly be a useful application of sending something off into space?”

“Aha!” Al exclaims jubilantly. “I’m so glad you asked that! Getting right into it, huh Margaret?”

“Did you ever wonder how you were able to watch on your TV something that was happening nearly a thousand miles away from you?” Al asks. 

“No…” Madge answers truthfully. “I kind of just...accepted that there was technology that was able to do it. I knew electricity played a big part.”

“Electricity is important,” Al concedes. “But it’s not how the information was broadcasted. You see, the Capitol uses terrestrial microwave links to communicate long range information. Do you remember seeing tall silver towers around 12? With long wires connecting them?”

“Weren’t those just electricity poles?” Madge asks growing more and more confused. Wasn’t a microwave just something that reheated food?”

“Yes and no,” Al says patiently. “While they did carry electricity, they were also equipped with transmission receptors that sent and received signals. They’re spread out across all of Panem, connected to each other.”

“What does a microwave have anything to do with this?” Madge asks frustratedly.

Al opens up his tablet and shows her something called the electromagnetic spectrum. Apparently energy traveled in different types of waves and particles. Madge had always done well in school, she hadn’t really had much to do besides study, but now, as Al leads her through the science of their surrounding world, Madge realizes just how obsolete the ‘schooling’ back in 12 had been.

“Ok…” Madge says slowly. “That all makes sense, kinda. Where does space fit into all this?”

“I was designing the Capitol’s first satellite when I escaped,” Al recounts. “A satellite is, by definition, a hunk of technology shot into orbit around the Earth in order to collect information or to be used for communication. The Capitol had a few of them about for about 10 years after the uprisings, but a rebel scientist had deleted over 400 gigabytes of data detailing the schematics of very powerful tech before she was murdered. One of the things she had deleted was the science behind satellites, so slowly, whatever satellites the Capitol had already had in orbit became decommissioned, and were unable to be replaced.”

“She must not have deleted very important things,” Madge grumbles. “The Capitol has tons of really scary technology.”

“They do,” Al agrees. “But if you ever study the technology used in the Dark Days, you’ll find that Capitol tech really isn’t all that advanced, which is a good thing. I’m not saying they’re over there operating on a bunch of pulleys and simple gears, but the Capitol is constantly trying to up their tech, because they know there’s a  _ lot  _ of room for improvement.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But going back to satellites, if all the data regarding them was erased, how do you know so much about them?” Madge asks suspiciously.

“Sheer genius?” Al said with a grin. “But a more serious answer: I didn’t, not at first. I learned as much as I could about the universal laws of physics and began to apply them. There were advanced enough computer simulators for me to test out my theories.”

“Your Father, he was a scientist, right?” she asks, recalling their conversation from yesterday. “Did he help?

Al’s face clouds over and he shrugs. “Kinda.”

There’s an awkward silence as Madge waits for him to elaborate and he doesn’t. Madge realizes with a sudden rush of guilt that they’ve been discussing his Father in past-tense. He’s no longer alive.

“If a satellite’s weren’t used by the  Capitol anymore, what got you into them?” Madge quickly changes the subject.

Al fidgets uncomfortably besides her. “Because I hated everything that was going on here on the ground.”

“What do you mean?” Madge asks, trying to make sense of his words.

“I know a part of you probably hates me because I’m from the Capitol, but we’re not all like Snow,” Al says quietly. “I remember when I was 12, and I was watching the reapings, all I could think was  _ that could have been me _ . My Father he…” Al trails off and shakes his head. “Anyways, from a very young age, I was disgusted by the world I lived in, so I immersed myself into astrophysics. I used to daydream about living on the moon by myself.”

“That sounds awfully lonely,” Madge comments, feeling ashamed that Al is right, a part of her  _ did _ hate him from where he was from, which had been totally unfair and cruel of her.

“Yeah, well, I was used to loneliness. At least up there I wouldn’t have been surrounded by barbarians,” Al chuckles bitterly.

Madge stares at his profile. His eyes hooded, and the visible part of his irises are pained.

“I know a thing or two about loneliness,” Madge confesses in a whisper. She’s never opened up like this, to someone. Bristel had approached her on the subject back in the woods, but this is the first time Madge is initiating the conversation on the matter. “My Father was the Mayor of 12. Everyone either resented me for my family’s affiliation with the Capitol, or feared the supposed power and influence I held. The one friend I had was shipped off to the Games, and then again to the Quell.”

Al looks at her in surprise. “You’re friends with Katniss?”

Madge just nods, not wanting to appear boastful.

“Huh,” Al says, tilting his head as he studies her. “I was kind of surprised when I found you alone yesterday. You look like the kinda girl that has a bunch of guys trailing after her. Not a loner.”

“Trust me,” Madge huffs. “I have no admirers to speak of.”

“But why?” Al presses on. “You’re pretty, you’re nice, and you aren’t the Mayor’s daughter anymore. Did you punch a guy or something when you were younger?”

Madge can’t help but laugh at this. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“There must have been something you did,” Al insists. “Otherwise it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” Madge asks seriously. “Because if you are, I’m leaving.”

Al smiles amusedly. “Never mind, it makes sense now. Guys are just too afraid of  _ you _ to make a move. You have a really scary resting face.”

“Oh hush,” Madge rolls her eyes. “Back to that precious satellite of yours. When did it launch?”

“My  _ precious  _ satellite is able to hack Capitol frequencies, both radio and microwave,  _ and _ provide us with an aerial view some 520 thousand feet up in the air, thank you very much” Al brags. “But to answer your question, I think it went up..hm, about two days before, uh, 12 was bombed.”

Madge looks down at her hands as her mind starts its onslaught of that terrible terrible night. The terrified screaming of people being burned alive echoes once more in her ears, and she takes a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry!” Al apologizes. “I shouldn’t have brought that up, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Madge gives him a small smile, unable to say anything yet.

“I remember seeing the bombers through the footage transmitted from my satellite,” Al sighs, fiddling with his watch. “I had hoped we could have beamed down a warning signal, a telephone call,  _ anything _ , but apparently you guys didn’t have any power.”

“What?” Madge practically shouts, making Al jump in surprise.

“Sorry?” Al stares at her in confusion, not knowing what to say.

“Did you just say that 12 didn’t have any power?” Madge says in a lower voice, her entire body trembling.

“Yes?”

Oh God. 

“Almonio,” Madge whispers, reaching over to grip his shoulders tightly. “We  _ had _ power that night. My Father sacrificed himself to shut it off.”

Al’s green-brown eyes widen almost comically, and his tan skin pales.

“I- that’s...When I reported the incoming bombers to my higher-ups, they told me that there wasn’t any electricity in 12!” Al explains in a rush. “You have to believe me, I had no idea! If I had known that there was power I would have-”

“I believe you,” Madge cuts in, tightening her grip on his shoulders to quiet him. “But why would they lie about us not having power?”

“I don’t know,” Al confesses. “Maybe it was just a system error?”

“That system  _ error _ ,” Madge hisses furiously. “Cost my family, and thousands of people from my home District their lives!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Al says frantically, waving his hands wildly. “All I’m saying is that neither of us knows why I was told there was no power, but I’ll look into every record I can find, I swear!”

Madge nods, finally removing her hands from his shoulders. Her heart was pounding furiously within her chest. Why hadn’t 13 warned them? The extra time for evacuation could have saved so many innocent lives.

The screaming has returned, and it’s so loud that her very center of balance is disturbed. Her parents were burned alive, there last moments on Earth had been in severe pain, she had-

“Madge,” Al’s voice cuts into her spiraling thoughts. “We don’t know anything yet,” he repeats. “Try not to think about the  _ what ifs _ , it’ll just drive you crazy. Trust me.”

Madge rubs her face with her hands and nods stiffly. “You’re right.”

“Always am,” Al jokes weakly.

They don’t say anything for a while, both lost in their thoughts. Madge can’t shake the... _ slimy  _ feeling that something terrible is lurking within 13.

“We need a way to keep in touch,” Al says suddenly. “As soon as they figure out I was bull shitting about the self-destruct button, they’ll be even stricter about when I can or cannot go. I did pretty heavily encrypt my work though, so I’d say we have about a week before things will get harder.”

“Can’t we just use our tablets?” every tablet has an inbuilt instant messaging application that Rory and his friends definitely abuse.

“No,” Al shakes his head. “In case we...stumble across something we shouldn’t have, we need to make sure we don’t leave behind any evidence that could leave a trail.”

“Then how?” Madge asks.

“I’m not sure,” Al sighs. “But I’ll figure something out. For now, let’s meet up here again in three days.”

“Same time?”

“Same time.”

Madge reaches for her crutches, and Al takes hold of her elbows to help her up.

“It’s probably best if we act like we don’t know each other,” Madge thinks aloud. “In case one of us is caught, at least the other can go on.”

“You sound like you have experience in professional spying,” Al teases, though he stops smiling when he sees Madge’s serious expression. “Wait, do you?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Madge answers cryptically with a smile, despite the tightness of her insides. “See you soon Al. I really hope you have some good news for me.”

“Me too,” Al says as he holds open the door for her once more. “Until next time, Margaret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Yes, I KNOW there was no Gadge in this chapter but a.) this chapter had to be split into two bc it would have been too long otherwise and b.) I did warn that this was a SLOW burn
> 
> 2\. Besides Madge, Thom, Bristel, Al, Delly and Gale will all have their own character development arcs. I hope you liked Delly's :)
> 
> 3\. I'm majoring in civil engineering, which is why I get a bit...deep into world building, and the science behind it, so do pardon my in-text geek outs.
> 
> 4\. I hope this chapter makes you go aha! I know why she tagged this as espionage now! 
> 
> 5\. Hope you enjoyed! How'd I do?


	11. The Dream Team

 

Back when both District 12 and her Father still existed, every Monday morning, without fail, Mayor Undersee would wake before the Mine’s steam whistle blew. Madge had only discovered this when she had once stayed up all night, trying to chart a map of the stars like the astronomy book in Father’s study had, when he came downstairs.

“Still awake, Pearl?” Father had asked her in a voice that was neither angry nor reprimanding when he found her sitting at the kitchen table.

Madge nodded. “I’m trying to map the stars,” she had explained to her tired Father, gesturing to the bay window beside her, who was stirring creamer into his coffee.

“Well, funny you say that,” Father chuckled. “I was about to go out and do the same with the District.”

“But we already have a map of 12,” Madge had pointed out with a frown. It hung in her homeroom, right next to a larger map of Panem.

“It’s a different kind of mapping,” Father explained. “I call it reconnoiter.”

“What’s that?” Madge had asked curiously. She had only been eight, but she liked learning big words. Hopefully, when she had learned enough, then Father would be able to speak to her more, since most of what he had done involved things she knew nothing of at the time.

“If I let you come with me, will you promise not to doze off in school?” Father asked amusedly.

Madge had stood up so quickly she had nearly tipped over her chair. She so rarely was able to spend one on one time with Father, much less outside of their house.

Reconnoiter, Madge had learned that early morning, tucked in her Father’s side to protect her from the chilled air, was an inspection of what existed when no one was looking. The small District was silent as they had walked; the only souls awake were in Mellark’s Bakery, preparing the District’s bread for the day.

“Why do you do this?” Madge asked him once they had returned from Seam. “What are you looking for?”

“It’s important for me to know every in and out of this place,” Father told her patiently. “Every change and constant. It would be of utmost arrogance to presume myself a dignified leader if I did not know every inch of the District I claim to govern.”

“But you _are_ a dignified leader!” Madge had insisted. She had learned the word dignified just the other week, and was proud she could use it in a sentence. She also knew better than anyone thatFather was almost constantly working, and when he wasn’t, he was fretting over things he could have done better, or things he would need to do.

“I don’t get to decide that,” Father had chuckled, though his eyes were dim. “They do,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Madge did not presume herself to be a leader of any kind, nor did she particularly wish for any similar title, but as she leaves the music room, she realizes a reconnoiter of her own was long overdue, considering just how little she really knows of her new 'home'.

Her steps are halted and her hands are clammy against the cool of her crutches, and for nearly two hours she just wanders, eyes glazed over as she wonders over and over again why 13 hadn’t warned 12. What could they have gained from that? And if they obviously held no regard for the lives of those from 12, why bother rescuing them in the first place?

She’s rounding a corner of a hallway she’s never been to, when a woman, a few years older than Madge, and military, if her bun is an indication, nearly bumps into her.

“Oh!” Madge gasps, as she nearly stumbles backwards, able to catch herself against the wall just in time.

“Are you injured?” the woman asks her immediately, though her voice holds no concern, and her face looks annoyed.

“No,” Madge answers, a bit peeved herself at the woman’s attitude. “Are you?”

The woman frowns, as if that’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.

“Are you going to file a complaint? My serial number is 436679,” the woman tells her, as if she just wants the entire ordeal over with.

“Why would I file a complaint?” Madge asks, totally lost. “Did you purposely bump into me?”

The woman sighs in aggravation. “It’s clearly stipulated that hallway conduct must include total peripheral awareness at all times, which I just violated. Are you going to file the complaint or not?”

“I won’t,” Madge says, and the woman rolls her eyes in relief, before quickly walking past her. Madge shakes her head and continues walking, careful eyes now taking in every detail surrounding her.

Thinking back, it was nearly foolish how easily she had accepted the almost miraculous saving grace that was 13. At first glance, 13 is the antithesis of the Capitol, what with the complete lack of decadent fashion and lifestyles. The frills are replaced with uniforms, and the reapings are traded with military training.  Her analogy is not totally fair, she realizes, because everything the Capitol does is for capital gain, whereas in 13, everything is structured to maximize the social security of every citizen.

But now, as she takes in the closed faces of 13’s citizens, she realizes that perhaps she, and everyone else has been duped into this thinking. Madge, better than anyone, should know that wherever there is a bureaucracy, regardless of how democratic, nothing is done without an expected return.

After a few moments of disorientation, she’s able to vaguely make out where she is, and begins to make her way towards the cafeteria, since it’s nearly dinner time. As she makes her way, however, a steady swarm begins to fill the halls, and Madge can’t help but feel claustrophobic. Pretty soon, the halls are packed and Madge is nearly pressed against the people around her.

“Excuse me,” she leans over to get the attention of the man next to her. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He looks down at her from his long nose. “We have a scheduled announcement from President Coin today.”

It seemed whichever jerk was in charge of making her schedule had decided to leave that part out of her forearm.

“Thank you,” Madge says with a polite smile, to which the man just scoffs. Charming.

A large T.V at the end of the hallway turns on, and Madge is close enough that she can see what it’s screening clearly: a woman, with hair just as silver as Al’s, though Madge has no doubt her’s is a result of age, not dye, appears, and Madge can’t help but be unnerved as her glass blue eyes crinkle as the woman smiles.

“Fellow Citizens,” Coin greets them, and her perfectly controlled tone and precise vowel use makes Madge want to shudder. She’s met this type before, at parties her Father had to host. People from the Capitol that spoke to her as if she was a dog, so warm in their words, but the message frigid. They all could have cared less for 12, yet from how they spoke, one would have thought they had birthed the District themselves. “I’m pleased to share good news. Our Renewable Energy Engineers have developed a new method of water purification that…”

Everyone around her listens to Coin aptly, and cheer when they’re supposed to. It’s almost as if it’s rehearsed. Madge can’t help but draw parallels to all those times she was forced to sit down in her living room and watch Snow on the T.V. He spoke just like Coin, his eyes had remained vacant at all times, betraying not a single thought, though their creases indicated happiness- the perfect actor.

“And remember, we are only as strong as our weakest link,” Coin concludes. “You are 13, and 13 is you.”

She disappears from the screen and is replaced with the message:

_PLEASE CONTINUE TO YOUR NEXT SCHEDULED ACTIVITY_

She follows a large swarm of the audience into the cafeteria. If she had been unsure of 13 before, she's nearly terrified of it now. She’s so consumed by the maelstrom of emotions in her chest, that she nearly misses someone calling her name.

“Madge!”

She turns around to see Katniss making her way towards her through the arriving people.

“Katniss!” Madge exclaims, both elated and confused to see her friend outside of the hospital.

“Are you alright?” Katniss asks with a frown as soon as she’s close enough to Madge, looking at her crutches.

“Just a little accident,” Madge shrugs, before grinning widely. “When were you released from the hospital? It’s so good to see you!”

Katniss smiles a little at this. “I got out this afternoon. Gale has been showing me around.”

Ah. That explained Gale’s absence from lunch today.

“Let me get your tray for you,” Katniss offers with another smile, which Madge returns gratefully. Katniss’s usually braided hair is once more loose, but unlike the last time she saw her, it’s been combed, and hangs prettily down her back, in blue-black waves.

Madge only realizes what a mistake it was to let Katniss get her food when Katniss begins to lead her back to a table with a sole inhabitant: Gale.

Madge opens her mouth, trying to think of an excuse that could get her out of a meal with Gale, but Katniss has already reached him, placing both hers and Madge’s tray down. Heaving a small sigh, Madge hobbles to the chair besides Katniss, diagonal from the one that Gale’s seated in.

On his part, he barely spares her a glance as she settles in. Madge can’t help but feel annoyed at his behavior. Just last night he was having a meltdown over her supposed safety, and now he was back to acting as if she didn’t exist? Talk about inconsistency.

“Gale, you remember Madge, right?” Katniss asks her surly friend, tilting her head towards Madge.

Gale finally looks at Madge, and the silence that stretches between them is awkward.

“What?” Katniss demands from both of them, as she realizes something’s off.

“Nothing,” Madge reassures Katniss quickly. “Gale and I just worked together to help the survivors in the woods.”

“Really?” Katniss asks unbelievingly, though her questioning gaze is directed more towards Gale than Madge.

“You know how it is Catnip,” Gale shrugs his wide shoulders. “You do what you need to survive.”

Madge’s eyes narrow at his words. His words aren’t a surprise to her, not when she had deduced the same thing, but to hear him so openly casting her off as a mean of survival, nothing more, grates on her already shot nerves.

“But I became very close to Hazelle and the kids in the meantime,” Madge adds, enjoying how it makes Gale’s eyes flash. “So I’m staying with them, since my own family couldn’t make it.”

“Madge,” Katniss gasps, covering her open mouth with her hand. “I didn’t know-”

“It’s ok, Katniss,” Madge says quietly. “There was no way for you to know.”

Katniss surprises her then, by reaching over and pulling Madge in for a hug. Madge knows that Katniss isn’t the touchy feely type, both in the physical and verbal sense, so she’s utterly touched as she brings up her arms to return the hug. The last time she had been this close to Katniss, the acidic stench of vomit had clung on her, but now, her quiet friend smelled of the standard 13 soap. She was glad of the change.

“I’m glad you survived,” Katniss whispers into her ears. “You’re my friend.”

Madge’s smile is shaky. To hear Katniss, so usually taciturn, vocalize a sentiment Madge has always felt, makes her glow.

When they pull away from each other, Madge notes with great delight the sour look on Gale’s face. Surely, to see the girl you love, hug the girl you hate must be anything but pleasant.

Gale’s displeased face quickly morphs into an _aha!_ one.

“Did princess here tell you how she busted her ankle?” Gale asks, almost smugly.

“No,” Katniss shakes her head. “What happened?”

“Like I said, just an accident,” Madge says nonchalantly, though she tries to send a covert glare in Gale’s direction. This seems to further encourage him.

“But an accident during _what_ ,” Gale presses on.

“Training!” Madge exclaims venomously, now glaring overtly at him. This was not how she had wanted to tell Katniss she was going to fight in a rebellion she had begun. “I’m training to be a soldier, ok?”

“Madge, you don’t know what you’re signing up for,” Katniss chokes, gray eyes wide. Madge can practically see the violent trauma she’s endured replaying in them. “It’s worse than anything you can imagine, killing someone.”

“I understand where you’re coming from Katniss, I really do,” Madge responds sympathetically. “But killing a soldier trained to protect a fascist regime is a lot different than being forced to kill an innocent kid.”

“No!” Katniss says, voice rising, and eyes growing more frantic. Madge wishes she could deck Gale for bringing something up that would obviously trigger Katniss. “It’s not! I can’t do this anymore- that’s why I turned down Coin!”

“Wait, what?” Gale cuts in. “What did Coin want?”

Madge’s stomach turns uncomfortably at the mention of Coin, but she too is desperately curious to know what Coin wanted of Katniss.

Katniss calms a bit to look almost bashful. “She wanted me to be the Mockingjay.”

“What do you mean?” Madge asks, and Gale nods along.

“It’s…” Katniss trails off, absently toying with her food with her fork. “She wants me to be the symbol of the rebellion. Inspire people or something.”

“How could you turn that down?” Gale demands, bringing a fist down against the table forcefully. “How can you turn on the rebellion?!”

“They have Peeta!” Katniss hisses. “I won’t-”

Katniss is cut off by Peeta’s voice. Katniss trembles violently, as she turns to face the screen, where a pale, but otherwise fine Peeta is sitting in fancy Capitol clothing. Madge can hardly believe her eyes. It's as if she's watching a sick prophecy unfold.

The cafeteria is silent as he speaks up until he gets to the part of a ceasefire.

“Millions of people will die,” Peeta pleads. “Is that what you want Katniss?”

“TRAITOR!” a man yells, standing up violently. More follow suit, and soon it’s impossible to hear Peeta over the shouting. Madge turns to Katniss, who’s stood up, biting down on her knuckles as tears stream down her face. Without another word, she bolts from the cafeteria, Gale a step behind her.

Madge sighs and covers her face with her hands as she hears the other occupants leave the cafeteria as well. In a way, hadn’t she predicted this? Madge cringes as she imagines Katniss recalling her words. This wasn’t exactly what she had meant. Actually, she didn’t really know at all what she had meant, only that she had just been trying to cheer Katniss up.

“You ok?”

Madge removes her hands and looks over to see that Bristel has taken Katniss’s spot next to her.

“Not really,” Madge admits. “When I visited Katniss in the hospital a few weeks ago, I told her not to worry about Peeta because the Capitol wouldn’t kill someone so useful. I can’t help but feel as if I’ve dammed Peeta to this fate.”

“That’s stupid,” Bristel denies strongly. “You didn’t do anything like that, and you know it. No one was expecting Peeta to turn his back on us.”

“And besides,” Bristel continues. “If anything, what you said will probably make Katniss feel better, she’ll assume that he was coerced into this, like what you implied, instead of doing this of his own free will.”

“I guess…” Madge says uncertainly. Then, she looks up and realizes the cafeteria has been emptied, besides them two. “Where are Thom and Delly?”

Bristel’s encouraging smile slips into an annoyed frown. “On their first date.”

“That was quick!” Madge exclaims.

“You’re telling me!” Bristel rants. “I’ve known Thom all my life, and the only way he got girls to go to the Slag Heap with him was by annoying them to the point where they would agree just to get rid of them, and now all of a sudden he’s Mr. Charming?”

“And Delly!” Bristel fumes. “She’s acting like she’s in one of those annoying Capitol programs! If she twirls a strand of hair around her finger _one_ more time, I’ll shoot myself in the face.”

“Bristel,” Madge says with barely concealed amusement. “Are you jealous that Delly and Thom are romancing each other?”

“No!” Bristel refutes immediately, skin darkening. “I just don’t want my idiot _Uncle_ heartbroken, alright? It’s obvious that he’s crazy about her, but they’re moving way too fast.”

“Don’t you trust Delly?” Madge asks, a bit offended for Delly’s sake. “I thought you two were friends?”

“We _are_ ,” Bristel says miserably. “And that’s the worst part. I know better than anyone how stupid Thom is, I’d hate to see _her_ have her heart broken too.”

“Affairs of the heart are always tricky things,” Madge sighs, thinking of her own miserable love life. “You just have to trust that they know what’s best for them.”

“I guess,” Bristel mumbles, shrugging.

They both sit there, quiet for a few moments. Madge stops thinking about Thom and Delly and returns to her previous anxieties. Suddenly, she can't stand a minute longer of being in the dark.

“13 had intel that 12 was going to be bombed before we did,” Madge announces, taking Bristel by surprise. “And they apparently didn’t warn us because we ‘didn’t have power at the time’.”

“What?” Bristel asks, brows furrowed.

“I need to know if we can trust this place,” Madge whispers, leaning closer so Bristel can hear her.

“How?” Bristel whispers back, eyes darting around them anxiously.

Madge pauses here. She had sort of told Bristel everything impulsively, and hadn’t thought this far. She wracks her mind for a place to begin her sleuthing, when her trip to the Greenhouse comes to mind.

“Delly and I visited the Greenhouse earlier,” Madge whispers excitedly. “There was a man there from Internal Affairs writing on _paper_.”

“So?”

“ _So_ ,” Madge emphasizes. “When was the last time you saw someone write on paper down here, instead of a tablet?”

Bristel’s eyes narrow as she goes through her immaculate mental catalogue. “Never,” she answers, a bit nervously.

“Exactly,” Madge says. “A skilled hacker can access anything on the tablets, but paper? You can only read what’s on it if it's in your hands.”

“What could possibly be going on in the Greenhouse that would be top secret, though?” Bristel asks incredulously.

“I...don’t know,” Madge admits. “But if there _was_ something secret, our best bet at the moment is that it’s filed away in Internal Affairs.”

“Are you suggesting we break in?” Bristel shakes her head. “That’s impossible and you know it, we have the security clearance of a toddler down here.”

Madge sighs and slumps at this. Bristel has a very valid point there.

" _Hell._ ”

Madge looks up and finds that Bristel’s face is caught between looking anxious and elated. “There might be a way for us to get in, actually."

"How?” Madge asks, scrunching up her nose as she goes over possibilities.

“Back when Thom was a janitor, his badge gave him access to just about anywhere,” Bristel tells her. “We used it all the time to sneak midnight snacks from the kitchen.”

“But he’s in aviation training now, isn’t he?” Madge asks, trying to follow Bristel’s train of thought.

“Maybe he’s still friends with a few janitors that’ll take him back,” Bristel shrugs.

“I can’t ask him to do that,” Madge sighs. “He hated doing that, and he looks really happy now.”

“Fine,” Bristel agrees with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s just go and ask him then if he has an idea about this.”

“He’s on his date,” Madge reminds her.

“So? They’re just at the rec room, probably making goo goo eyes at each other,” Bristel mutters in disgust, standing up.

“Wait,” Madge stops her. “That’ll mean we’ll have to involve both Thom and Delly in this.”

“Madge, we’re your friends,” Bristel says sternly. “Either you trust us or you don’t. If you just told me all this to take advantage of my memory or something, then you’re on your own.”

“Of course not!” Madge exclaims. “I trust all of you! I just don’t want you guys to get tangled into something dangerous.”

“Weren’t you just telling me that I have to trust people to choose what's best for them?” Bristel reminds her. “Back in the woods, you were right about the thief. I trust your intuition, and Thom and Delly do too. You don’t have to do everything alone, Madge.”

Madge doesn’t say anything, her throat is momentarily too tight.

“Let’s go crash a date,” Madge finally manages to say, and Bristel smirks at her.

They find the pair of lovers on a bench tucked away behind a tangle of plastic grape vines hanging from the ceiling, Thom’s arm around Delly’s shoulders as she reads from a book aloud, a content look on Thom’s face even with his both eyes are closed.

“Hey, love birds,” Bristel interrupts brusquely. “We need your help.”

“Bristel, Madge!” Delly says in surprise, her smile kind, but eyes confused.

Thom’s reception to their sudden appearance is less than polite. “What do you want bristly?” he growls, totally ignoring Madge.

Bristel looks at Madge expectantly, and Madge shifts awkwardly. “Well, you see…”

“Madge may have stumbled upon a District wide conspiracy theory, and we need to help her figure out if it’s true or not,” Bristel interrupts helpfully.

“What theory?” Delly asks as Thom removes his arm from her shoulders to lean in to hear better.

“13 knew we were going to be bombed,” Madge repeats in a whisper. There aren't many people in the rec room, and the ones that are present are at a distance from them, but she doesn't want to take any chances. “And they didn’t warn us because we ‘didn’t have power’, even though we did.”

“How did you find out about this?” Thom asks with a frown, and besides her Bristel stiffens.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask you that…” Bristel mutters, bringing a hand to her forehead.

“I have a..friend on the inside,” Madge answers evasively. The less that people know about her link to Al, the safer. “Anyways, they’re looking into whether or not 13 actually thought we had power or not. I want to look into something else in the meantime.”

“That is?” Thom presses on impatiently.

“Delly, do you remember the man at the Greenhouse?” Madge asks the other blonde, waiting for her to recall.

“The one that was writing?” Delly asks. “I do. What about him?”

“I think Internal Affairs is where 13’s confidential documents are stored,” Madge explains. “That’s what I want to infiltrate.”

“Madge!” Delly gasps, bringing a hand to cover her gaping mouth. “We could in serious trouble doing that!”

“C’mon Dell,” Thom says encouragingly. “This is important. If Madge needs us, we should help her.”

Delly bites her lip before nodding.

“I don’t want any of you to feel like you _have_ to go through with this,” Madge tells them honestly. “Delly is right, we could get in a lot of trouble for this.”

“I’m in,” Bristel says immediately, with a wry grin. “Taking down those thieves with you was fun.”

“I am too,” Thom declares, standing up and puffing out his chest.

They all turn to Delly expectantly, but to Madge’s surprise, she’s already smiling widely.

“Thom is the brawn, Bristel the brains, and Madge the boss,” Delly explains. “So of course I need to be the beauty!”

“You _are_ beautiful,” Thom coos, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, which elicits a giggle from a blushing Delly. Bristel meets Madge’s gaze and rolls her eyes dramatically, but she looks amused.

“Wait!” Thom shouts, startling all three of them. “We need a group name!”

“That’s really not necessary,” Madge begins, but Thom has already gotten an idea.

“The Dream Team!” he announces excitedly. “It’s perfect!”

“If you’re in it, it should be the Nightmare Team,” Bristel snarks, making Delly giggle again.

Madge gives a small smile. She just hopes they’re all happy at the end of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a teeny weeny Gadge squeezed in. I PROMISE that very soon Madge will be seeing more of him than anyone else, I just needed to establish her as a character first. ALSO, Bristel will be meeting her love interest very soon....anyone wanna venture a guess who? ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! How'd I do?


	12. Maintenance

“The Doctor told me to just take it easy and stay in bed,” Madge lies. Her visit to the hospital yesterday went a bit differently. She had gone in, lied to the staff that her ankle was still unusable, and was assigned to an annoyed Doctor that told her to continue using her crutches, and had more or less said she didn’t need to come back unless it was to return the crutches.

“Oh,” Hazelle says with a frown. “What about breakfast? You already skipped yesterday’s.”

“I’m just gonna go back to sleep,” Madge waves off. “Delly said she’d bring me some lunch. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“If you’re sure…” Hazelle says in a voice that indicates she herself isn’t sure.

“I’m sure,” Madge says with a smile, dropping back down and pulling her blanket up to her chin. “See? Snug as a bug.”

“Snug as a bug in a rug!” Posy rhymes, looking terribly proud of herself. Madge is certainly proud.

“Indeed,” Hazelle smiles. “Well, I’ll see you at dinner then, Madge. I let you and Gale sit alone with Katniss yesterday, but don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Madge replies sweetly.

The moment the door slides shut after Hazelle and Posy, Madge flings off her blanket and rushes towards the bathroom to freshen up. Her ankle was mostly healed, just a dull throb that was more than manageable. But today, if everything went according to plan, and she truly hoped it did, the ‘Dream Team’ will have infiltrated Internal Affairs. But in order for that to happen, Madge needed to get out of yet another day of training. She tries not to think about how much this will set her back as she shoves her shoes on.

She takes off to where Thom had told her where the custodial station was located, getting turned around a few times before she finds the heavy double doors. Once she’s there, all she can do is pace anxiously as she waits for her friends to come out.

After what seemed like a decade, which was actually no more than five minutes, Thom strolls out, with Delly and Bristel behind him, wheeling out large cleaning carts.

“You did it!” Madge cheers, reaching over to hug Thom in relief.

“I did!” Thom agrees with a laugh, giving her a quick squeeze before stepping back. “Miss. Undersee, I’d like to introduce you to 13’s newest addition to its custodial staff.”

“Look Madge!” Delly says excitedly. “We get to wear these cool masks! It goes on like this, you have to put both strings behind your-”

Yesterday, when Thom had assured Madge that he’d be able to get his ex-manager, Billy, to wave the usual one day processing time for new employees, she had been skeptical, especially since she wouldn’t be able to join, as she was still currently enrolled in combative training.

“Thom, you should get to work,” Bristel points out. “You’re going to be late.”

“I wish I could come with you guys,” Thom whines. “All I do is read a dumb manual all day!”

“You’ve already done so much,” Madge assures him. “None of this would have been possible without you. _Thank you_.”

“Aw, shucks,” Thom says shyly, clasping his hands behind his back as he sheepishly toes the ground. “You’re making me blush.”

“Oh, you’re just the cutest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on!” Delly squeals, making pinching motions with her fingers as she reaches towards his face. “Get on out of here before I gobble you right up!”

Thom leans over and gives Delly a kiss on the cheek before waving to Madge and Bristel.

“Good luck,” he says seriously, as he turns around. “And don’t get caught.”

“Ok,” Madge sighs, once Thom is out of sight. “Who wants to push me?”  
  
Delly and Bristel had tried to argue that they could go without Madge, since she had training and all, but she was adamant that either she was in the scheme, or there was no scheme at all.

So, they reached a less than pleasant conclusion. The cleaning carts had two layers. The top was to rest the odd item on, while the bottom one, which spanned the rest of the width of the cart, was where all the cleaners and products were stored. To make sure nothing fell out, a cloth with the word SANITATION printed on it, was fastened in on each side.

“I volunteer as tribute,” Bristel says wryly. Madge shoots her a scathing look as she bends down to pull out the metal hooks sewn onto the cloth from their designated spots. She shoves aside a few bottles and gingerly crawls in.

“Are you alright down there?” Delly calls out in concern. The real answer is not really. Even with her short legs, they’re folded uncomfortably, and she has to hunch over terribly to keep her head from hitting the top. On top of all that, the overwhelming stench of chemical cleaners make her both dizzy and nauseous.

“Fine,” Madge wheezes. “Let’s just go.”

Bristel fastens back the cloth and they begin the perilously slow journey to level 15. As the two girls wheel their carts along, Madge goes over their plan in her head again.

Delly, who can out-talk a tape recorder, will distract whoever is present, while Bristel secures the documents, passing them off to Madge, who will quickly skim them before handing them back to Bristel, who will then return them to their original spot. Theoretically, it should be a clean and quick job.

Theoretically.

Madge is moments from pulling her hair out in anxiety when the cart suddenly lurches forward than backwards before stopping, bringing Madge’s face dangerously close to a toilet plunger.

“Ah, Madge?” Bristel’s muffled voice filters in. “We have a problem. There’s a janitor in front of us who is probably headed to the same place as us. Ideas?”

“Give me a minute,” Madge answers, rubbing her eyes frantically as she tried to come up with something. “Get me out of here!”

A few moments later, Madge is outside, wincing as she places pressure on both feet that have fallen asleep.

“What area were you two supposed to clean today?” Madge asks quickly.

“Quadrant 9, level 5, area 11,” Bristel adds immediately. Delly gapes at her in awe.

“Ok,” Madge says with a nod. “Follow me and my lead.”

Walking quickly towards the janitor pushing his cart slowly in front of them, Madge pulls the hair tie from her wrist and hastily pulls her hair into a bun, before pulling her badge off her belt loop.  
  
“Excuse me,” she says in the haughtiest voice she can conjure. Which, to her even own ears, was pretty haughty.

The man turns around in confusion, eyeing the three of them warily. “Yeah?”

“My name is Florance Howard,” Madge fibbs, flashing her badge too quickly for him to read it. She had once met a woman with that name at one of the Capitol parties at her house. “I’m Deputy of the Sanitation facilities, and I’m here to inform you of a little personnel change. These two here will be taking over your duties, as you are being reassigned to…”

“Quadrant 9, level 5, area 11,” Bristel supplies.

“Yes yes,” Madge says pertinently. “There.”

The man scratches his beard and narrows his eyes in suspicion. “This has never happened before.”  
  
Madge raises an eyebrow. “Tell me, Mr…”

“Lews,” the man fills in gruffly.

“Yes, Mr. Lews,” Madge corrects with a self-assured sniff. “Has an arrival of a new District happened before? If the answer is no, I suggest you wander off now to your temporary station before I file a complaint.”

“No need for that Ms. Howard,” Lews says quickly, seemingly buying Madge’s facade. “Just a little confused is all. I’ll be on my way then.”

Madge releases a breath she hadn’t known she was holding once he rounds the corner.

“That was too close,” she mutters, leaning against a wall.

She notices that both Delly and Bristel still haven’t said anything, and looks up to see that they’re staring at her as if they’ve never seen her before.

“What?” she asks self-consciously.

“Golly, Madge,” Delly says. “You turned into a different person for a minute there!”

“Yeah,” Bristel snorts. “You sounded like Coin Jr.”

“Ugh,” Madge shudders, hating that she had grown up around enough people like that she was able to emulate them. “Don’t say that again.”

Madge crawls back into her cramped space and is both relieved and terrified when Delly announces their arrival.

“Cleaning crew!” Delly greets cheerfully.

“You can start with the bathroom and the offices in the back,” a dull female voice instructs them. Madge desperately wishes she had some visual of what was going on up there, but all she could do was just sit there, waiting. Bristel and Delly make their rounds and Madge’s muscles grow more and more cramped

She’s growing moodier by the minute when she makes out the sound of knob turning, which is immediately replaced with a stern voice.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” a man angrily demands. “Get out of my office!”

“Sorry,” comes Bristel’s contrite reply. “Would you like to step out for a moment, so I can tidy things up?” Madge knows immediately that something must be up. Bristel is rather insubordinate, and would only apologize to a rude person if there was an ulterior meaning.

“No,” the man growls. “10 years I’ve worked here, and never has the cleaning crew come during the day. I want it to stay that way!”

“Excuse me,” Delly’s sugary voice cuts in. “Are you Mr. Roberts? I was wondering if you’d be willing to speak with me for a moment about working here.”

“Well,” Roberts voice is hesitant. “I suppose...I could, for a moment.”

“Swell!” Bristel says. “You two can take it outside while I clean up in here.”

“Oh yes!” Delly quickly adds. “Where to Mr. Roberts?”

Madge hears footsteps besides her, and Roberts and Delly’s voices growing further away.

“Thank God for Delly’s boobs,” Bristel mutters. “Madge, you have to see this.”

Bristel helps her out, and Madge’s breath is caught in her throat when she sees what Bristel was referring to. The wall behind Roberts desk is covered by several large filing cabinets.

“Try to clean up a little,” Madge says in a rush as she runs over to the first cabinet, opening a drawer. “Then help me look.”

“Ok!” Bristel says, her voice filled with adrenaline.

The first few drawers she opens hold no eye-catching filing tab, probably printed out when there wasn’t such a shortage of paper, which frustrates Madge to no end. Her nerves are totally frayed as she keeps an ear on Roberts voice down the hallway, and her shaky fingers fumble as she tries to find something she doesn’t know what she’s looking for.  
  
She’s on the third cabinet, and she can’t help but feel as if she’s skimming too quickly, and no doubt skipping over very important documents, when her finger ghosts over a tab labeled _Future projections; expansion._

Taking in 12 counted as an expansion, didn’t it? Pulling out the file, Madge flips it open and finds several graphs. Most of them don’t make any sense to her; they have several lines and words she’s never heard of before and are riddled with equations longer than her name, when she flips to a graph simple enough that even she can understand it.

It’s a line graph, documenting 13’s population levels. There’s also a sole horizontal line labeled _minimum population required for maximized operations._

The line is steady, usually just barely over the horizontal one, but then, a few years ago, it dips, sharply, and is far below the horizontal one. Then, a date from a few months ago- when 12 had arrived, Madge notes with a start, is documented, and the line is back to a safer level.

“Oh God,” Madge whispers as the realization of what this means hits her.

“What?” Bristel turns around quickly, but her elbow hits a lamp, knocking it off the desk.

“What was that?” Roberts calls out angrily.

Madge meets Bristel’s panicked gaze for just a moment, before slamming the drawer shut and lunging under Robert’s desk, file still clutched in her hand.

“You knocked down my lamp!” Roberts roars as he strides back in the room. Madge pays him little to no mind as she reopens the file. She skips past the graph she was just looking at till she reaches the last page. A short report.

_As seen, the absorption of 12’s survivors have restored population levels to a stable percentage, which had been negatively affected by the plague five years ago, thus solving the issue of an insufficient workforce._

“I’m sure it was an accident!” Delly tries to calm him. “See, it’s not even broken!”

“Get out of my office,” Roberts snaps, pulling out his chair and sinking into the seat, his knees just inches away from Madge’s face. “You have no potential, and _you_ can’t even clean, even though your gender was designed for this kind of work.”  
  
_However, even with the new, larger, population, the matter of 13’s machinery’s lifespan remains. With current resources, 13 will be able to maintain self-sufficiency for an estimated 10 more years. After that materials from the above will be needed, in order to avoid mass machine failure._

 The report ends there. Madge is shaking so violently she’s afraid Roberts will hear her.

“Of course,” she hears Bristel, and even in her half numb, half overwhelmed state, she can hear the sly undertone in it. “Whoops!”  
  
It takes a moment, but the nauseating stench of bleach invades her nostrils, and she has to cover her mouth with her hand to stop from coughing.

“You bitch!” Roberts shouts. “Clean this up immediately! I can’t work here, it’s a Goddamn health hazard!”

“Right away,” Bristel says obediently. Roberts pushes away from the desk, and Madge watches his stubby legs walk away.

“All clear!” Bristel whispers.

Madge crawls out from under the desk and hurriedly puts the file back from where she got it.

“Get in!” Delly says urgently, as she helps Bristel soak up the spilled bleach. Madge does as she says and quickly gets into her spot in the cart, no longer caring about the small space.

She isn’t sure how long she’s in there as Delly and Bristel clean the rest of the department, so she just sits there, in a little ball, as she goes over the information she’s just learned.

13’s population had been too low. In a District that existed on the efficiency of each and every citizen, this made sense. So, when 12 was bombed, it only made sense for them to go into the woods and pluck them out. Of course, they needed a certain number, which is why no warning had been signaled. Madge hadn’t memorized the data, but she knew that if all 10,000 of 12’s inhabitants were rescued, 13 would have been overpopulated by a large degree. Madge wonders if Hoppock, the Army Major she had met in the woods, had approached her only after he had done a head count. She tries not to think what he would have done if he had counted one too many.

Then there’s the latter half of the report, about the machinery. Logically, Madge knows that all of 13’s machines are at least 75 years ago, brought underground at the end of the dark days. She isn’t an engineer of any sorts, but she knows that most machines doesn’t last that long, especially when in such heavy use. Suddenly all those dishes she had to wash by hands made sense: they knew that there aren’t any dishwashers to replace the ones they have currently.

She jumps when Bristel pulls away the cloth, banging her head painfully against the metal above her.

“All done,” Bristel informs her as she scoots out, both legs wobbly from being folded so tightly for so long.

“All done with _this_ assignment,” Delly grumbles, looking put out for the first time since Madge has met her. “We still have four more.”

“Forget that!” Bristel exclaims impatiently. “Madge, what did you find?!”

“13 didn’t warn 12 because they couldn’t take in so many people, and they only took us in because their population was too low. Also, all their machinery is expected to fail in about a decade,” Madge summarizes, shaking out her legs.

Bristel gapes at her as she takes this all in. Delly just frowns.

“I hate politics,” she tells them both. “I never understand anything. Is 13 bad or not, Madge?”

“I don’t know,” Madge cries, allowing herself to feel totally the agony of both sympathizing with 13’s reasons, and wanting to burn the whole place down for letting her parents die willingly. “I don’t know what to believe in- my heart or my mind!”

Delly pulls Madge into a hug which she gratefully returns. She can’t remember the last time she felt this lost.

“Go and rest up a bit,” Bristel suggests softly. “This is a lot to process for all of us. We’ll see you at lunch, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Madge returns to her room dazed, but when she opens the door, she finds that she isn’t alone.

“Madge,” Katniss greets with a frown. “Hazelle said you were going to be in bed today, because of your ankle.”

Madge looks down guiltily at her ankle, which she is using without any aids.

“I, um, just needed a break, you know?” Madge says, not totally lying.

Katniss frowns for a moment more before moving on. “I came for help.”

“Oh?” Madge asks, plopping down in the chair and toeing her shoes off. “With what?”

“Terms and Conditions.”

“What?” Madge shakes her head, convinced she’s misheard Katniss. “Terms and Conditions?”  
  
“For being the Mockingjay,” Katniss explains, and Madge’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“So you’re going to be it then,” Madge affirms. Katniss nods. “Any particular reason why the sudden change of mind?”  
  
“I thought about what you had said to me, in the hospital,” Katniss tells her. “And you were right. The Capitol is keeping Peeta alive so they can use him. But if there isn’t a rebellion, there’s no use for him, right?”

“So this is all for Peeta?” Madge asks with a frown, the thought not sitting right with her.

“No,” Katniss admits. She looks down at her feet. “I visited 12 today. And I….”

“You don’t have to say anymore,” Madge whispers, shutting her eyes, as flames from that night dance behind her eyelids once more. Her parents ashes still lie there, cold and forgotten.

“I hate the Capitol,” Katniss says quietly. “More than anyone. I won’t...I _can’t_ let them do what they did to our home ever again. Snow’s time is up, I’ll make sure of it.”

Madge opens her eyes to look at the girl on fire.

“You will,” Madge says encouragingly. “Maybe something bigger than us compelled me to give you to the pin that day. Whatever it was, I’m glad I did. I’d do it all over again, even if I knew this all would happen.”

“You would?” Katniss asks, face surprised. “But your parents…”

“Are dead,” Madge finishes. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get over that, not completely. But they’re martyrs of a revolution that I too will dedicate my life to, because we were born to be free, not slaves to the Capitol. And it's thanks to you, Katniss, that I’ll be able to live a life more than just a miserable shadow.”

Katniss’s eyes grow glassy, but she shakes her head. “It was Peeta,” she whispers. “Everyone calls me the girl on fire, but he’s the one that lit the spark.”

“That’s why I need your help,” Katniss continues, voice growing stronger. “My main condition is full protection for all the Victor’s held hostage.”

Madge walks over in her socks to her bedside table to pull out her rarely used tablet. Holding it up, she grins. “Let’s write some terms and conditions that’ll knock Coin’s socks off.”

The next half hour Madge helps Katniss practice her arguments for granting amnesty to Peeta and the others. Then they get to Buttercup.

“I’m not sure there’s a way to skillfully word why they should let you keep the cat,” Madge admits. “I think you’re just going to have to ask for this one.”

“Yeah,” Katniss agrees with a small smile. “I think you’re right.”

They’re quiet for a few moments, and Madge considers telling Katniss everything she’s learned. Out of everyone down here, doesn’t Katniss have the most right to know about this? But as Madge takes in Katniss’s determined profile, she holds her tongue; Katniss has enough things going on as it is, knowing that 13 operates on extremely strict politics won’t really help her any.

“I should go then,” Katniss says, sliding off the cot where they had taken residence.

“See you later!” Madge calls to her retreating figure. Katniss doesn’t say anything, but Madge hadn’t really expected her to.

She looks at her forearm and realizes that it’s already 10 minutes past lunchtime. Pulling on her shoes again, she quickly heads off to the cafeteria, though she has to return to grab her crutches. She had _really_ enjoyed her time, however brief, without them.

To her surprise, Gale is sitting with Bristel, Thom, and Delly, and it’s him who gets up to help her with her tray.

“Did you talk to Katniss?” he asks once he’s reached her, grabbing a tray. Madge is no longer surprised- he had just been waiting for Katniss intel.

“Yes, that’s why I was late,” Madge answers, not really looking at him.

They’re quiet as Gale gets food for her, and when they’re at the end of the line where Madge has to show her badge to be scanned, he turns to her.

“I have a surprise for you, by the way,” he tells her with a smirk.

“S-surprise?” Madge stutters, totally taken off guard.

“I was thinking, we need the best soldiers we have up there fighting the Capitol, and the current vetting system is just not enough,” Gale explains, his smirk growing. “So, I talked to a few big names down here. They all agreed with me. As of today, in order to qualify for combatives, not only do you have to complete the already vigorous obstacle course, you _also_ need to engage in hand-to-hand combat with another soldier.”

“You-you!” Madge splutters, shaking with rage as she follows Gale’s words. The chances of her passing onto basic combatives had already been nonexistent, but he had practically nailed in the head of her coffin.

“Yes, _me_ ,” Gale informs her with a booming laugh. “I’ve already written our names down on the roster. First scheduled fight will be Hawthorne vs. Undersee.”

“Well jokes on you!” Madge retorts indignantly. “I’m going to be a combat medic, and they don’t require you to be in the top five of your class to enroll!”

Gale scowls at her. He clearly hadn’t anticipated this. “Stop being so stubborn!” he hisses, leaning down so his face is closer to hers. “Why can’t you see how stupid this is?!”  
  
Madge goes on her toes so she gets even more in his face. “Why can’t you stop trying to boss me around?!”

“Whoa there!” Thom ducks in between them and takes Madge’s tray from Gale’s hands. “Let the poor girl eat, Gale! Heaven knows she’s already too skinny.”

They both follow Thom, even though Madge wants to yell at Gale more. Sure, she’s had some training in self-defense, but that was always against other women, and it was always pretty casual. She knows without a doubt that Gale could have her immobilized within seconds without even using half of his total strength.

Once Madge takes her seat next to Delly, she realizes that the table is eerily quiet. She glances around and finds that Bristel, Delly, and Thom are all looking at her expectantly while Gale just moodily eats his food. They want to know if they can tell Gale about today.

Logically, Gale should know. He’s smart, resourceful, and better connected than any of them. But she’s still angry at him, and though she knows it’s petulant, she shakes her head. She’ll tell him later. If she feels like it.

“You two train with her, don’t you?” Gale asks suddenly, looking at Bristel and Delly. “Why didn’t you stop her from going into combatives?”

“Really Gale?” Madge hisses, slamming her fork down. “Will you not drop this already?”

“Because she’s her own person,” Bristel answers in an almost angry tone. Madge could kiss her in this moment. “She makes her own decisions.”

“Dude,” Thom chuckles, twirling his noodles around his fork. “Madge could kick your ass.”

“As if,” Gale scoffs. “She’s barely over two feet.”

“I'm five one,” Madge corrects darkly. “And brain always trumps brawn.”

“We’ll see,” Gale mutters, returning to eating his food.

“Ignore him,” Thom sings. “He’s just jealous he’s been replaced by Delly as my cuddle buddy. I’m a very good cuddler.”

“You are,” Delly giggles. Thom winks at her, and Bristel makes an exaggerated gagging noise.

“What the hell?” Gale asks, frowning. “Are you two _dating_?”  
  
“Yes,” Thom answers steadily. “Is there a problem?”

“I- you,” Gale stutters, looking between Delly and Thom as if they’re an indecipherable puzzle. “She’s a Townie!”

“You’re _unbelievable_ ,” Madge seethes, standing up without her damn crutches. “There _is_ no more Town and Seam! But of course, you don’t care about that, because it’s always been poor little Gale against the big bad Townies.”  
  
“I’ve had it with you and your rotten attitude,” Madge continues, voice rising. “You don’t care about my safety. You just want to see me fail, because all you have is hatred in your heart!”  
  
She barely remembers to grab her crutches as she runs out of the cafeteria. Instead of returning to Hazelle and Posy’s room, she goes into her original room, the one she had been assigned to when she had first come to 13. It smells dusty and disused, but at least she’ll be alone.

Flinging herself onto the cot, Madge closes her eyes and tries to even her breathing. Suddenly, the weight of the day crashes onto her, and Madge is so exhausted she can barely think coherently, not that she even wants to. All the anger, confusion, disappointment, hurt and fear melts into a single feeling that pushes her into a fitful sleep.

When she opens her eyes to Gale’s face above hers, she’s sure she’s dreaming. But no, in dreams she’s never aware of the stale taste of leftover sleep in her mouth, or the tension in her neck from sleeping in an awkward angle.

“What are you doing?” Madge demands, sitting up, trying to sound harsh despite the hoarseness of her voice.

Gale moves away so she can sit up completely. “I brought you some food, since you slept through dinner.”

Madge glances at the clock and suppresses a groan. Had she really been sleeping that long?

“You can go then,” Madge tells him stiffly, pointedly not looking at him.

“Not even a thank you?”

Madge quickly turns her neck to glare at him, but his smirk stops her. He’s teasing.

“Look,” he sighs, putting her tray on her table. “Thom and I are really old friends and I-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Madge interrupts. “I’m not going to delude myself into thinking I’m your friend. I accept that you hate me. Please leave.”

“Just give me a chance to explain myself before you get all holier than thou,” Gale growls. “Thom always went on how he didn’t understand the appeal of Town girls, said that ‘blonde didn’t do it for him’. _That’s_ why I was surprised he was dating Cartwright, nothing...personal.”

“Oh,” Madge feels more than embarrassed over her outburst now. “Well...that doesn’t change the fact that you hate _me_ because of where I’m from.”

“You’re from 12,” Gale says, surprising her. “Just like me. Anything beyond that was some bullshit made up by the Capitol to divide us.”

Madge opens her mouth to ask him why _does_ he hate her then, but falters. She’s too cowardly to hear the bitter truth, whatever it may be. Instead, she’ll accept this apparent ceasefire.

“Anyways, I came to bring you back,” Gale tells her. “Ma and the kids miss you. I don’t even want to think about the tantrum Posy will throw if she doesn’t see you soon.”

Madge smiles. It’s disconcerting, how much she misses the kids herself.

She quickly eats what Gale’s brought her. She’s more than halfway through, when she realizes something else needs to be said.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Madge says, momentarily putting her bread roll down. “If I have to fight someone I will, but I don’t want it to be you.”

“Why not?” Gale asks, raising an eyebrow. “Scared?”

“ _No_ ,” Madge scowls at him. “You’re just going to be more motivated to beat me than anyone else.”

“And what about up there, when a Capitol soldier is _motivated_ to kill you?” Gale asks harshly. “Will you request a fight with someone else then too?”

“Ugh!” Madge exclaims. “You’re impossible. But fine- I’ll fight you!”

“You didn’t have much of a choice, Princess,” Gale points out with a smirk. “You’re going to fight me, and you’re going to lose. The sooner you accept it, the less it will sting.”  
  
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Madge bluffs slyly. “After all, I know your weakness.”

“And what would that be?” Gale asks with narrowed eyes.

Madge returns one of his many smirks to him as she gets up. Good God, she had slept with her shoes on.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Madge taunts, walking towards the door, grabbing her crutches, Gale right behind her. “Of course, you can always call the fight off and I can tell you now.”

“Yeah right,” Gale huffs. “As if I’d fall for that.”

Madge just hums and keeps walking, Gale next to her with a frown on his face as he no doubt tries to figure out what weakness of his Madge could possibly know about.

She spends the rest of the evening helping Rory and Vick with their homework, and playing Princesses with Posy. Hazelle had given her a disapproving look for skipping dinner but mercifully said nothing. Gale had left after dropping her off, saying he was going to check on Katniss, and Madge had to push down the sinking feeling in her stomach. It didn’t matter how much progress she made with Gale, she’d never be the girl he’d check on before sleeping.

She tries to tell herself she doesn’t mind. Not when there’s a war to be fought.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, next chapter is when Gale meets Al! I hope this chapter made up for the recent lack of Gadge. As always, hope you enjoyed! How'd I do?


	13. Secretary (?)

She had to cut her breakfast short, since she had to return her crutches and rejoin Vox and the rest of CG for training. When she entered the training room, she wasn’t spared a second glance during attendance, which didn’t surprise her in the least.

Training itself was harder than usual. Not because she hadn’t been in for two days, but because she was constantly distracted.

Was she really going to be a solider for a District that had willingly let her parents die?

Did she have any other choice? _Was_ there any other choice?

A part of her wished she had never gotten involved in any of this, since ignorance really was bliss. Just because she had predicted this, didn’t make any of it easier to deal with. What was the point of this knowledge, if she could do nothing with it but suffer?

She’s reloading her handgun to do more target practice, when the girls a few feet away from her burst out laughing.

“My brother has been studying like _crazy_ for his exams,” one of them giggles. “Mom says if reads anything more on electricity he’ll go into shock.”

“Shock!” the other one laughs. “Good one.”

Madge can’t help but hate the two girls a little, for their innocent actions. It makes dividing people into a _them_ vs. _us_ category all that harder. She knows that unlike the people from the Capitol, 13’s citizens don’t know the crimes their home has committed, but the resentment Madge held towards the District ached to have a direct target.

But the girls next to her were training to fight in a war they don’t know is necessary for the survival of their District’s survival-they’re here because they think it's the right thing to do. And that’s why she can’t hate them.

Madge squares her shoulders and aims her gun carefully again. Between the Capitol and 13, there was no doubt that 13 was the lesser evil. Madge would fight with them. If it came down to it, she would die for them.

Her rather heavy realization is interrupted by Vox.

“I see you’ve decided to return,” she says snidely. “I wasn’t able to convince you on a...career change?”

Madge’s grip on the gun tightens. “Evidently not.”

“Watch your tongue!” Vox snarls. “I’m your superior-any more insubordination from you, and I’ll have you discharged quicker than you can say _sorry_.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Madge says through gritted teeth. She wonders if this is what the people from the Seam felt like when dealing from Townsfolk, inferior and powerless. Gale’s resentment towards her makes even more sense- all these hierarchies are nothing but humiliating.

“Disrespectful shrew,” Vox mutters under her breath, sidestepping Madge.

“Captain!” Madge calls to her retreating back. Vox turns around with a highly annoyed expression.

“Why does it matter to you if I try to get into combat?” Madge asks, genuinely curious to know the woman’s reasoning. Madge has no more tolerance left for secrets. “If I’m as bad as you say, then I’ll just die, and you won’t ever have to deal with me again.”

Vox doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and Madge begins to fear she may have crossed the final line with her Captain.

“Follow me,” Vox says finally, and Madge does, though reluctantly.

Vox leads Madge till they reach a door that opens once Vox scans her badge. It’s a small office.

“Sit down,” Vox tells her, pointing to a seat across the desk. Madge sits gingerly, as Vox sits down herself in the chair opposite of her. So this must be Vox’s office then. She hadn’t known Captains were given their own offices.

“Do you know which District I’m from?” Vox asks her, folding her hands to rest her chin on them.

“13?” Madge answers hesitantly. Truthfully, she’s never put in much thought on Vox’s background.

Vox shakes her head. “I was born and raised in District 1,” she answers, watching Madge closely.

The wealthiest District, right after the Capitol. Home to the largest number of Careers. What on Earth is Vox doing down here, training a bunch of teenage girls who will most probably die before they’re 20?

“With all due respect, Captain,” Madge begins slowly. “Why are you here then?”

“I had a daughter,” Vox tells her, her brown eyes growing lighter in the sudden wetness gathering there. “Her name was Ruby.”

Had. Was. Madge shifts uncomfortably in her chair as she awaits the next part of the story.

“It’s different, training for the games yourself, than it is watching your child train,” Vox says in a voice so quiet Madge strains to hear her. “But she was so talented. They called her Red Ruby, because she was so precise with knives and always left her opponent bleeding.”

“So of course I couldn’t stop her from volunteering, not with the entire District rooting for her,” Vox continues, her eyes sliding shut in pain. Her face, which by default was severe looking, just looks tired now. “She was only 16. She died two days in, from the cold.”

“I watched my Ruby freeze to death,” Vox whispers, shaking as if it’s her who’s in an icy tundra. Madge vaguely recalls the Game’s Vox is referring to.“And now I train girls, to make sure they have a fighting chance. I work every day to make sure that there aren’t any more coffins filled with rubies.”

“My stats aren’t that bad Captain,” Madge insists quietly. “You’ve helped me come so far and I-”

“This was her,” Vox interrupts, turning a frame that sits atop of her desk. Immediately, Madge understands why Vox hates her so much. She looks just like her deceased daughter.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were her ghost,” Vox admits with a dry chuckle. “But then I saw your eyes. Ruby had beautiful brown eyes.”

“I…” Madge isn’t sure what to say. Say she isn’t Ruby? But Vox obviously already knows that.

“It’s selfish, I admit, why I wanted you to fail,” Vox confesses, not looking up from Ruby’s photograph. “I didn’t want to hear that the girl who looked just like my little girl had died.”

“I lost my parents in 12’s bombing,” Madge tells her. “So in a roundabout way, I know the pain you’ve felt. But just like how you fight on for your daughter, I have to do the same for my parents. If I don’t, I’ll fall apart.”

“You’re right,” Vox says with a small smile. “I’d like to apologize, Cadet. I’ve been terribly unprofessional with you.”

“Consider it forgotten,” Madge says good-naturedly.

“To answer your question, why I’m here,” Vox goes on. “It’s because there is no other choice. It’s either bite the hand that feeds you, and die free, or leave the leash on, and live as a dog.”

“So if there were another option...” Madge begins hesitantly. “Would you take it?”

Vox’s eyes are unrelenting as they stare her down, and Madge almost feels as if the Captain can read every thought Madge has ever had.

“I would,” Vox answers steadily. “But there isn’t one. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Madge echoes, shocked at her words. “Do you know something-”

“I don’t,” Vox breaks in firmly. “But who know’s what the future holds?”

Vox looks at her pointedly, and Madge realizes that Vox is asking without words if _Madge_ knows something. Suddenly the walls of the small office are even smaller, and she’s finding it difficult to breathe. Did a higher up send in Vox to talk to her? DId they catch her in Robert’s office yesterday? Was that even Vox’s daughter she had just seen, or a photo edited to trick Madge?

“Cadet,” Vox’s voice cuts through her panicked thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Ever. But I don’t ever want to see another Ruby get lost in a storm she had no business of being in in the first place.”

Madge relaxes, just a bit.

“What makes you think I’m in a storm of any kind?” Madge asks, keeping her gaze level with Vox’s.

Vox actually smiles then, a sight Madge has never seen. “You had the same expression on your face Ruby did when she was up to no good.”

“Oh,” is all Madge can say, thoroughly unsettled.

“You should get back to training,” Vox suggests, standing up.

Madge returns to the training room, but to her slight annoyance, Vox spends most of her time with Madge, thought it’s spent giving her tips and critiques to the point where the other CG are looking at her both suspiciously and enviously. Madge personally thinks they can shove it. She needs all the extra help she can get, even if it's from her creepy Captain.

By the time training ends, Madge is feeling more confident in her abilities than she’s ever been, and in an unexpected twist of fate, it’s because of Vox.

After giving Vox a genuine smile, despite still remaining unsettled over their little ‘heart-to-heart’, she heads over to the locker room to shower and change back into her standard, non-military uniform.

She’s stripped down and is heading over to a shower stall, when a trio of girls, all just as naked as her, come in her path.

“Saw you real familiar with the Captain today, 12,” the middle girl sneers.

“Yeah, got something to say, 12?” the girl on the left demands. The girl on the right just crosses her arms over her bare breasts and looks like she wants this whole ordeal to be over with. Madge agrees; she’s shy with clothes on, naked, she’s practically a nervous mute.

“Not at all,” Madge insists. “She was just helping me catch up, since I was on medical leave.”

“ _Medical leave_ ,” the middle girl scoffs. “As if. I want to know the real reason why you’re suddenly Vox’s pet, and I want to know it _now_.”

The other girls in the locker room have stopped what they were doing and are watching the scene unfold. Madge only wishes she was wearing something, at the minimum underwear. Despite her discomfort, she realizes that this could be the moment she had been waiting for, to prove her value to the rest of the CG.

“Sounds like you’re frightened that the girl from 12 is going to beat you in the exam,” Madge says amusedly, forcing herself to sound both confident and casual. She just hopes no one notices the goosebumps all over her body. “Even though you started training for this since you were 14, and me, two months ago.”

“Shut up, cunt!” left girl shouts, swinging a fist right at Madge’s face. Madge is just barely able to dodge the attack, and the girl’s hand collides painfully against the metal of the locker behind Madge.

“Shit!” she curses, clutching her injured hand to her chest.

“Heather!” the girl on the right admonishes. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just attack people!”

“Yeah,” the middle girl agrees weakly, looking at Madge wearily.

Madge glances around the room. Every girl in the room is waiting for Madge’s reaction.

“We’re fighting a war,” Madge addresses the entire room. “There isn’t time for useless divisions and sectarianism. I see you all as my equals, my comrades. If it comes down to it, I’d take a bullet for anyone of you.”

Madge looks back at Heather, who’s staring at her with an ashamed look in her eyes. “Even you.”

“I’m sorry,” the middle girl cuts in. “You’re right, for a while there we lost sight of what’s really important: bringing down the Capitol. Not the valor.”

“Not the valor,” Madge agrees, remembering the medals of valor given to the families of miners that had died ‘for Panem’. How useless of a word.

“I’m Bella,” the girl on the right introduces herself, sticking her hand out to shake. “I look forward to working with you.”

Madge smiles shyly as she shakes her hand. “Madge.”

“Leah,” the middle girl says quietly, sticking out her own hand, which Madge shakes as well.

“Guess you already know who I am,” Heather mumbles, not meeting Madge’s gaze, nor extending her hand.

“So it seems,” Madge says dryly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to shower.”

Bella, Leah, and Heather move to the side, and Madge risks one more glance behind her. The audience is looking at her with...respect.

“ _Maybe I’ve been wrong all this time_ ,” Madge thinks half-giddy, half-amusedly as she lathers her sweaty skin. “ _Maybe to gain respect you have to_ lose _some clothes.”_ She quickly ditches that thought, she’s too traditional to even joke around mentally like that.

She heads over to the lunchroom in high spirits. So high, in fact, that she doesn’t even think twice about plopping down next to Katniss and right across from Gale.

“Madge,” Katniss greets with a small smile, though there’s something off in her gray eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Madge asks immediately. “Did something happen?”

“No no,” Katniss quickly reassures her. “Just nervous. I’m shooting my first propo today.”

“Propo?” Madge repeats with a frown. She’s never heard the term before.

“Propaganda,” Katniss explains with a cringe.

“I’ve been trying to convince her it’s a good idea,” Gale says exasperatedly from across her. “Now you try, princess.”

Ignoring his nickname, Madge nods. “I know the word propaganda has some pretty ugly connotations, but if you’re doing something that’ll give people the strength to fight, how is it wrong?”

“I know it’s not _wrong_ ,” Katniss grumbles. “I just hate being on camera.”

“Why?” Madge asks simply.

“Why?” Katniss repeats. “Because it sucks! Everyone is just _staring_ at you, and if you make a mistake you’ll endanger everyone and-”

“ _Katniss,”_ Madge breaks in gently. “You won’t be filming live. You can make a million mistakes and no one will be mad. Just remember why you’re doing this.”

She purposefully doesn’t use Peeta’s name, not with Gale sitting right there, but from the way Katniss straightens, and Gale stiffens, she knows they both know what she was referring to.

“You’re right,” Katniss says, nodding. “I need to do this.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gale says encouragingly, but his expression is still closed off. Madge can’t help but feel guilty. She should have been more mindful of Gale’s feelings.

“I’m going to go ahead,” Katniss announces, standing up. “They’re always shoving food in my face anyways.”

“I’ll come,” Gale says immediately, but Katniss shakes her head, her cheeks growing red.

“I don’t need you watching me make a fool out of myself,” Katniss insists.

“Oh, c’mon Catnip-”

“No Gale,” Katniss says sternly. “Maybe next time.”

Katniss leaves them and Gale sinks back into his chair, expression thunderous. Madge awkwardly continues eating. She had actually been less uncomfortable when she had nearly gotten into a naked fist fight than she is now.

“Don’t take it personally,” Madge finally says to him. “You know how she is.”

“I _do_ ,” Gale snaps. “I don’t need you to tell me. _I’m_ her best friend.”

Normally, Madge would just take offense at his words and move on, but something about his petulant jealousy just amused Madge.

“So am I,” she says mischievously. “Best girl friend, that is.”

“You can only have one best friend,” Gale scoffs. “Hence the word ‘best’.”

“And Katniss is so blessed,” Madge hums. “That she has _two_ best friends!”

“Alright,” Gale concedes. “If we accept your logic, who’s _your_ best boy friend?”

Madge looks up to the ceiling as she considers this. Almost automatically, she see’s Al’s face in her mind, which in his words is _absurd_ , since they’ve only spoken twice. Wait! She was supposed to see Al today- in all her sleuthing, she had completely forgotten that!

“What?” Gale asks.

“Huh?” Madge asks back, not sure what he’s referring to.

“You look like you swallowed a fly,” Gale says almost amusedly, his long dimples appearing for just a moment.

“It’s nothing,” Madge tells him, shaking her head. “I was just thinking how...policed everything is here. There’s hardly any room to do what you want.”

“Yeah,” Gale agrees with a frown. “Believe it or not, I had more free time in 12.”

“Tell me about it!” Thom’s voice suddenly cuts in, making Madge jump. “Do you know how hard it is to plan a decent date down here?” he complains, plopping down next to Gale. Bristel and Delly take their seats by Madge.

“I love our dates,” Delly assures him. “I just love being with you.”

Madge glances over at Gale, and true to his word, he doesn’t look bothered by Thom and Delly’s affection, though he does look highly annoyed at the arm Thom’s slung over his shoulders.

“We should all hang out today,” Bristel suggests. “Might as well take advantage of that lame rec room.”

The combination of ‘taking advantage of’ and Bristel’s face suddenly gives way to an idea Madge can’t believe she hasn’t had before.

“I agree,” she says quickly. “It’ll be fun!”

“Gale,” Delly says, almost shyly. “You have siblings, right? You could bring them too.”

Gale stops in his tussle of removing Thom’s arm from his shoulder to stare at Delly.

“See?” Thom crows. “I told you she was a keeper!”

“Oh stop!” Delly giggles, her cheeks reddening.

“Sure,” Gale nods. “I will.”

They all go their own ways after lunch, and while she hangs out with the kids back in Hazelle and Posy’s room, Madge nearly goes mad with waiting. She wants to talk to Al immediately, desperate to know if he’s found out anything she still doesn’t know.

Rory is the only one who notices her fidgeting, but he doesn’t comment on it. He’s moved on from his teasing phase with Madge, and has actually grown remarkably close to her, confiding to her about the day-to day drama of his class, and how Cathy Gregors likes him but he most definitely does _not_. Madge loves every second of it.

Posy insists Madge act out a story, and after enlisting the help of Vick, they’re able to put on a production of a warrior princess that defeats a dragon, though Vick insists the dragon has to be part robot. Madge isn’t sure what to make of Vick’s obsession with half robot creatures, but it makes him absurdly happy, so she won’t complain.

At dinner, Vick keeps her amused by continuing his theories on Cyborgs.

“So you think they’re a normal person, right?” Vick explains seriously. “But then, you open up their chest and bam! There’s a battery instead of a heart!”

“Where’s their heart?” Posy asks curiously.

“They don’t have one Posy,” Vick sighs exasperatedly. “Haven’t you been listening? They’re cyborgs, not humans!”

“Attitude,” Hazelle scolds.

“Do I have a heart?” Posy asks Gale seriously, gray eyes wide.

“Of course you do,” Gale answers amusedly.

“Gale doesn’t,” Rory snickers, ignoring the glare his brother throws him.

The rest of dinner passes with the usual banter, and _finally_ the Hawthorne’s finish eating.

“To the rec room!” Madge says excitedly, scooping up Posy and rushing out the cafeteria.

“Wait up!” Vick calls after her, running to catch up. Gale and Rory trail behind them while Hazelle goes to one of her new mommy friend’s room.

Delly, Bristel, and Thom are all already in the rec room when Madge and the Hawthorne’s arrive.

Madge skips rope with Delly and Posy for a while, before playing jacks with Vick and Rory, when out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a familiar silver haired boy slip into the music room.

“I’ll be right back,” Madge announces. “I have a surprise in the music room for Bristel.”

“Me?” Bristel asks, looking totally confused. “What is it?”

“You’ll see,” Madge says with a grin. “Just don’t come in until I come and get you!”

“How come I don’t get a surprise Sissy?” Posy asks sadly.

“Oh! Because...um, I’m still working on yours,” Madge lies, cringing. What is she supposed to surprise Posy with now?

“What about me?” Vick demands in a hurt voice. Rory nods his head in a _me too!_ way.

“And me!” Thom adds. “I’m the better Bryne anyways.”

“You wish,” Bristel snorts.

“You all will get your surprises!” Madge practically yells. “I just need more time!”

She quickly scurries to the music room before she can be bombarded with any more requests. She’s certainly dug herself into a deep hole.

She pushes that thought out of her mind as she slips into the music room.

“Margaret!” Al jumps in surprise at her entrance. “I was beginning to worry that I was stood up.”

“Of course not,” Madge says as politely as she can. “Now. Tell me what you learned.”

“There’s no data on 12,” Al tells her, fiddling with her watch. “And I mean literally. Besides the location and population size, there’s nothing else in every database.”

“So you couldn’t find any order that overrode your request for a warning signal?” Madge asks impatiently.

“No,” Al shakes his head. “There’s nothing at all. I combed through practically every single military server, and the only time 12 was mentioned was for the rescue mission.”

“I learned something too,” Madge tells him, sitting down in one of the old armchairs. “13 didn’t warn 12 because they couldn’t accommodate our full population.”

“Margaret, I _swear_ I didn’t see anything like that-”

“I know Al,” Madge interrupts kindly. “Me and my friends broke into Internal Affairs. It was printed, to purposefully be kept inaccessible.”

“Broke in?” Al echoes, face scrunching up in confusion.

“Yep,” Madge nods her head. “Nearly got caught at that.”

“I...wow,” Al breathes, before grinning widely at her. “You’re kinda really amazing, Margaret.”

“I learned something else, too,” Madge adds, ignoring his compliment. “13’s machinery is all predicted to fail in 10 years. I don’t know why it was in the population report, but it must be important. Any ideas why?”

“Oh…” Al gasps, slowly sinking into the chair opposite to her.

“What is it?” Madge asks quietly, her voice almost shrill.

“Think about it,” Al explains in a rush. “What do they mean by ‘machinery’? Every single aspect of 13 is run by a machine. If those fail, the entire District collapses.”

“Sure,” Madge agrees, still not seeing where he’s going with this. “Why was that information in the ‘future expansion’ folder though?”

“Trust me when I tell you I’ve looked at a _lot_ of data in the past 3 days,” Al says. Madge only then takes in the dark circles under his eyes, and that his hair is even wilder than usual. “And you know how there was only a sentence dedicated to 12? Well there were entire _databases_ dedicated to 11, 10, 9, 8, and 7. Two had an honorable mention. What do all these District’s have in common?”

11: agriculture. 10: livestock. 9: grain. 8: textile.  7: lumber. What _did_ they have in common?

“Oh my God,” Madge gasps in realization. “They’re everything 13 will have a shortage of.”

“13 is in this war not because they care about the District's,” Al answers in a strangled voice. “But because they need resources.”

“What does that mean?” Madge asks fearfully, even though she already knows the answer.

“Margaret,” Al says in a hollow voice. “I do believe we may have found ourselves deep in the clutches of the devil.”

Clutches that now grasp Katniss.

“I pushed her to be the Mockingjay,” Madge wails, covering her face as guilty tears slip out of her eyes. “What have I _done_?”

“Hey, it’s ok!” Al stands to console her, but before he can place a comforting hand on her shoulder, she’s on her feet, clenching the cloth covering his chest in her fist.

“How do I know I can trust _you_?” Madge hisses, shoving him a little. “For all I know you could be bugged and there are soldiers outside that door waiting to execute me!”

“By all means, check the door,” Al responds calmly. “You’ll find no soldiers.”

“You didn’t answer my question!” Madge yells. “How can I trust you?”

“Do you know why I wear this watch?” Al asks her, raising his wrist so she can see it. Madge doesn’t answer.

“It was my Father’s,” he tells her. “As you know, he was a scientist, but for many years, he was simply a mad man.”

“What?” Madge loosens her hold on his shirt in her confusion. Al takes this action as an opportunity to step back and smooth the cloth before returning to his seat. Madge remains standing.

“Do you remember me telling you how sick I felt the first time I watched the reapings as a 12 year old?” Madge nods, she does. “Well, it had an even more adverse effect on my Father. Overnight, he went from one of the Capitol's most brilliant scientists to a man convinced he would have to initiate, carry out, and finish a rebellion on his own.”

“He told no one but me this, of course,” Al continues, his eyes growing more and more distant as he spoke. “He became obsessed with a myth from the Dark Days. Have you heard of the Elixir of Life?”

“I haven’t…” Madge answers wearily, finally taking a seat herself.

“Well, it was said that once someone drank the elixir, they would be immortal,” Al explains. “My Father got it into his mind that if he was immortal, he could take down the Capitol himself.”

“The other scientists indulged his madness, too amused to report his straying from assignments. That’s why I went into astrophysics, because I wanted nothing to do with what was going on down here around me.”

“But then, a rebel-sympathetic scientist, Dr. Clarissa Bloods, a great woman, found out about 13 somehow, and told my Father,” Al recounts. “And it was as if someone had flipped a switch: my Father’s sanity had returned, with the hope of a nuclearly armed District ready to wage war against the Capitol.”

“So the three of us made arrangements to smuggle ourselves here to 13. But we’re scientists, and what’s important is not our bodies, but our thoughts. So Father downloaded decades of his research into a chip and slipped it into his watch.”

“That’s the watch,” Madge gasps, looking down at his wrist.

“Indeed,” Al says with a grim smile. “We had made it to District 1, and were waiting for a 13 hovercraft to pick us up. Then, almost at the very last moment, peacekeepers showed up. My Father handed me his watch, shoved me in beneath a transportation truck that had been parked there, and was shot dead in front of my eyes alongside with Dr. Bloods. I barely escaped myself.”

“Al,” Madge whispers, not knowing what to say. What _could_ you say to someone that had witnessed something so horrific?

“The point of that very long story is that 13 meant a lot to me too,” Al says, his skin gray. “And it’s betrayal stings just as badly to me as it does to you. Unfortunately, it seems that this is our only choice if we want a fighting chance”

Only choice. An echo of Vox’s earlier words. Madge can’t help but begrudge the universe in that moment, had the people of Panem not suffered enough for them to have been sent down an actual messiah?

“I’m sorry,” Madge apologizes earnestly. “I was just afraid-”

“I understand Margaret,” Al chuckles, some color returning to his cheeks. “Franky I’m just overjoyed you decided to be my friend in the first place.”

“You _are_ my friend,” Madge tells him honestly with a smile. “I’m so glad I met you, really I am.”

“This is exciting!” Al squeals. “I’ve never had a friend before!”

“Speaking of friends,” Madge says, suddenly remembering her earlier idea. “I have a way for us to keep in touch without seeing each other.”

“Really?” Al asks, looking genuinely impressed. “I’ve been trying to program an incognito software for us to message on, but it can be breached too easily.”

“This messenger can’t be breached,” Madge says smugly. “Not easily, at least. I want you to take on my friend as an assistant.”

“Assistant?” Al repeats with a frown. “I don’t need one.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Madge agrees. “But the people that oversee you don’t need to know that. You can tell them she keeps you organized or something, thus increasing your productivity. They’ll buy it.”

“No offense, Margaret, but my work is pretty complex,” Al sniffs. “A random girl can’t qualify as my assistant.”

“She’s not random!” Madge asserts. “She’s studying to be a System’s Engineer. She’s a genius, really! She was also one of my friend’s who helped me break into Internal Affairs yesterday.”

“Fine,” Al sighs dramatically. “But let me meet her first, at least, so I can see if she’s a good fit.”

“Ok,” Madge nods. “I’ll go get her now, then.”

“Sensational.”

Madge steps out and waves wildly until she catches Gale’s eye. He taps Bristel’s shoulder and points to Madge. Bristel walks at an excruciatingly slow pace towards her.

“So what’s the surprise?” Bristel asks once she’s _finally_ near her.

“Just get inside,” is all Madge says. The door swings open and Bristel steps inside.

The room is silent as Al and Bristel take in each other for the first time. Madge is about to make introductions when suddenly Bristel sprints towards Al, looping her arms around his waist as she tackles him roughly to the ground. Guess she picked up something from training after all.

“Oof!” Al gasps as his back hits the ground with a loud thud. Bristel wastes no time in getting off him and scrambling up so that she can wrap her legs around his neck, locking him in a chokehold.

“I’ve got him Madge!” Bristel cries triumphantly, as Al struggles to breathe.

“Bristel no!” Madge yells, rushing forward to save Al. “He’s my friend on the inside!”

“What?” Bristel looks down at the guy she’s choking. “ _Him?”_

“Yes, _him_!” Madge exclaims, tugging on her legs. “Now let him go!”

Bristel obeys, and Al coughs as he heaves in huge gulps of air.

“I didn’t know you were working with a Capitol guy,” is Bristel’s way of an explanation as she stands up. “He triggered my fight or flight reflex.”

Ignoring Bristel, Madge helps Al stand up, apologizing to him all the while.

“I really am sorry,” she apologizes once he’s standing and rubbing the back of his no doubt bruised head. “I had no idea she was going to do that.”

“Well _I’m_ not sorry,” Bristel huffs, annoyed that Madge is talking about her in third-person when she’s right there. “You should have warned me.”

“S’okay,” Al slurs, staring at Bristel with wide eyes. Poor thing must be frightened of her. Which totally botches Madge’s plan.

“Bristel,” Madge sighs, as she rubs her eyes tiredly. “I wanted to ask you if you’d be Al’s assistant.”

“ _What?!”_

“I know you’re studying to be an engineer, but it’s really important that Al and I can share new intel as soon as possible,” Madge explains quickly. “But he’s under very close watch and can’t sneak to meet me as often as would be ideal. Things would be a lot easier if you were the middleman.”

“Why should _I_ be this prick’s _secretary_?” Bristel demands indignantly. “You were the one that was pushing for me to be an engineer in the first place!”

“I smell good,” Al garbles, still staring at Bristel with wide eyes.

“Did you hit your head really hard?” Madge asks in concern, leaning closer to look at his pupils. They were certainly enlarged.

“What does he even do that needs a freaking secretary?” Bristel asks, still incensed. “And what’s this about intel?”

“Science,” Al grunts.

Bristel stares at him incredulously before looking at Madge warily. “Is he...slow?”

This seems to shake Al out of his stupor, because he blinks rapidly, and opens and closes his mouth several times before finally speaking.

“No!” he squeaks. Clearing his throat, he continues in a deeper voice. “I’m Almonio Herst. I’m a scientist for the Technology Expansion Project. I’ve been helping Madge uncover...some of the lesser known facts about 13.”

“I quit my janitor job _today_ ,” Bristel reminds her sharply. “And you want me to be a secretary already?”

“Not a secretary,” Al says before Madge can reply. “If you pass your exams, I can request that you work with me.”

“He’s the only person down here that knows about satellites,” Madge adds, making sure she isn't smiling in victory when she speaks. If Bristel has a weakness, it’s learning new things.

“The hell is that?” Bristel grumbles, though Madge can see a gleam of interest in her gray eyes.

“Stuff shot into space to spy on people,” Madge quickly answers before Al can launch a full scale lecture on the topic.

“I have to think about this,” Bristel grouses, fingering a shiny lock of hair. Her expression softens when she looks back up at Madge. “But you already know that my answer is yes, since I can’t seem to say no to you.”

Madge steps forward to hug Bristel tightly. “Thank you,” she whispers. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“Yeah yeah,” Bristel responds, hugging her back just as tightly. “You better fill me in on that ‘intel’ later on though.”

“Of course,” Madge agrees immediately.

“And you,” Bristel turns to Al with narrow eyes. “If you ask me to get you coffee, or something demeaning like that, I really will bash your head. Got it?”

“A-absolutely,” Al stutters, nodding his head quickly. Madge frowns, he still looks like he’s seen a ghost...maybe he should see a Doctor.

“I’m gonna go then,” Bristel sighs. “Study for that stupid exam.”

“Thank you again,” Madge repeats. “And...maybe keep this from Thom?” Thom, who no doubt has a heart of a lion, also has the mouth of a parrot.

“Obviously,” Bristel says with a roll of her eyes. She appraises Al once last time with an unimpressed expression. “You said your last name was Herst? I’ll message you when I’m doing with my exam.”

“Who’s Thom?” Al asks casually as soon as Bristel is gone.

“He’s Bristel’s…” cousin? Uncle? Friend? She isn’t sure what Bristel would want Al to know. “It’s complicated. Just ask her next time you see her.”

“Right,” Al mutters, kicking at the floor. “Bristel…”

Madge is about to ask him what’s wrong, when the door swings open once more, revealing the Hawthorne clan.

“Cyborg!” Vick immediately shouts as soon as he see’s Al, rushing in front of her and splaying out his arms as if they were a shield. “Madge, get away, he’s going to eat you!”

“Why would I eat her if I was a cyborg?” Al asks seriously, with a confused frown. “I would only eat oil if I was one.”

“Oh,” Vick says quietly, as he considers Al’s logic. Rory openly laughs at him as he lowers his arms in embarrassment

“He’s probably a real good friend of Madge, isn’t he?” Rory asks slyly. It seems that she was wrong in her assessment that Rory had grown out of his _tease Madge_ phase

“No! He’s, um,” she can only imagine how incriminating this entire scene must look: her, alone with someone from the Capitol, and desperately tries to come up with a cover on the spot.

“Shut up Rory,” Gale snaps, looking impossibly angry, even with little  Posy on his hip, a muscle in his jaw visibly spasming from how tightly he’s clenching it. “Who is he?”

“Where’s my surprise, Sissy?” Posy asks, interrupting Gale’s questioning.

“These are your _siblings_?” Al whispers loud enough that everyone hears it.

At that, something seems to snap in Gale. His face somehow contorts into an expression more furious than his last, and he’s visibly shaking with rage as he sets Posy down and rushes out of the room, the door slamming loudly behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T HATE ME but I had to cut the ch. here or else it would have been too long. From this point on, Gadge will be far more prominent because I believe Madge has been established as her own character, not just a love interest. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! What did you like and dislike? Pls let me know, the last thing I want is sloppy or boring writing! As always, thanks for reading <3


	14. Sow the seeds

Gale was, unsurprisingly, a hard man to track.

Although, in her defense, he did have quite a bit of a head start on her, since she had to stay behind and do damage control with his siblings.

“So who _are_ you then,” Rory had asked seriously, crossing his arms and looking Al up and down closely. “You really don’t look like Madge’s type.”

“Rory!” Madge admonished. Is that what he had been hinting at all this time, that Al was her _boyfriend_?

 _Was_ that _why Gale was mad?!_

No...that was totally ridiculous. 

Al puffed up his chest and smiled brightly. “I’m Almonio Herst, I’m a-”

“Piano instructor!” Madge cut in quickly, sending Al a warning look to not contradict her. “He’s been helping me...write a song for you three!”

“Huh?” Rory balked. “ _That’s_ the surprise?”

“I want my surprise now, Sissy!” Posy stamped her foot, and had been dangerously close to a tantrum, which never ended under a minimum of 15 minutes.

“Well I’m going to let Margaret here play her song for you,” Al excused himself awkwardly. “Nice meeting you three.”

“Bye,” Vick said suspiciously, eyes following Al’s every step. Probably still thought he was a cyborg. Madge would have to deal with that later, she knew no doubt.

After playing a random song she knew off the top of her head and randomly singing in their names, the three Hawthorne siblings were content enough with their surprise, with Posy downright delighted and Rory mostly bored. Vick had just sat through the performance, deep in thought.

“Are you going to go after Gale now?” Rory asked delightedly. “Can I come? This is gonna be so fun.”

“How will it be fun?” Madge asked, glad Posy and Vick were occupied with the guitar instead of listening in and demanding to tag along too.

“Gale just got bro-zoned,” Rory chortled. “It’s gonna be _hilarious_ seeing his face when you talk to him!”

“What’s 'bro-zoned'?” Madge asked with a confused frown, trying to rack through her mind for a definition.

“Pfft, you’re so innocent Madge,” Rory said mischievously. “I know, let’s ask _Gale_ -”

“I need to go now Rory,” Madge broke in sternly, earning just another wide grin from him. “Please take care of your siblings, ok?”

“Sure sure,” Rory shrugged, though she didn’t trust that gleam in his eyes. “Just don’t stay up too late with our _brother_.”

Unsure of what to make of his implication and deciding she didn’t have the time to squeeze out what ‘bro-zoned’ meant from the raucous 14 years old, Madge finally left the stuffy music room and ran to Gale’s room.

Which of course, was empty.

Thus her current predicament, searching aimlessly, trying to find Gale and somehow calm him down enough to tell him everything she’s learned.

She’s been searching for nearly two hours, which adds a whole new layer of trouble since it’s past curfew and she could be put on suspension if she’s caught by security. 

He wasn’t in his room. He wasn’t with the Everdeens. He wasn’t at the cafeteria. He wasn’t at the training centers.

Where could he _be_?

Madge is about to round a corner when the muffled sounds of two men talking to each other from the other end of the hallway reach her. Panicking, Madge looks around to see if there’s any place where she can hide from who is most probably security making rounds.

She catches sight of a utility closet and nearly cries in joy when she finds the handle unlocked. Silently letting herself in, she sighs in relief once she’s completely surrounded by darkness, safe from wandering eyes.

And then the roof breaks.

Madge jumps, swallowing back a scream as she backs into a metal stand holding various cleaning things, and looks up at the sudden source of dim light in fright.

Gale stares back at her, holding a panel of the ceiling in his hands, looking just as surprised as her.

“How the fuck did you even find me?” Gale growls down at her, face shifting from surprise to anger.

“Shh!” Madge shushes desperately. She had been made a lot of noise when she had crashed into the stand, and isn’t sure if the two men down the hallway heard. “I think security is outside, let me up!”

For a moment Madge is afraid that Gale will just put back the large ceiling piece and condemn her, but he scoffs and moves aside, though not before snidely asking, “Can you even get up here?”

Instead of verbally answering, Madge moves and presses herself against the door as much as she can before sprinting towards the opposite wall, jumping up to secure one foot on the wall to provide extra momentum for her to reach up and cling to the ledge, easily pulling herself up once she has a steady grip.

Once she’s pulled herself up completely, she looks at Gale, and can’t help but feel extremely smug at the look of complete shock on his face.  

Gale quickly pulls himself together and puts back the ceiling piece from here he took it off, and just in time too, because Madge is able to just barely make out the sound of the door opening below them.

No longer afraid of being apprehended, Madge is able to take in her surroundings. They seem to be in a tunnel of some sort, dimly illuminated by worker lanterns that line the walls besides the many pipes and wires. It's chillier here in then the rest of the District, and even the air seems dustier, harder to breathe.

“Is there a service tunnel above every level?” Madge asks, awed.

Gale just grunts and gets up, hastily walking away from her. The sight of his hunched shoulders reminds her of her original objective.

“Gale, wait!” Madge calls after him, hastily scrambling up and after him. “I need to-”

“I am _not_ doing this again, Undersee,” Gale cuts in angrily, whirling around to face her so quickly she nearly runs into his broad chest. “I was first the _cousin_ , and now I’m the _brother_ , so go back to your Capitol fucking boyfriend and leave me the hell alone!”

“Gale, I’m sorry but Al didn’t know-”

“Al!” Gale barks a laugh. “So that’s the tool’s name. Good to know. I don’t give a shit about what he does and doesn’t know.”

“If you’d just _let_ me-”

“What part of _go away_ do you not understand?” Gale shouts, bringing his face close to hers. “Go back to fucking your scrawny boyf-”

Madge can’t help it. She’s tried to reason with him, to talk things out in a civilized fashion, like two adults, but Gale just won't listen. So she punches him in the face. _Hard_.

 _“Shih!”_ Gale curses as a brings up a hand to his bleeding nose. “I thing you broke ih!”

“That’s what you get when you act like a total jerk,” Madge huffs, though she does feel absolutely wretched as she watches the blood leaks through his fingers. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, just knock some sense into his thick skull.

“Now, will you shut up and listen to me, or do I need to hit you again?” Madge asks impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest, covertly cradling her now throbbing fist. She was right, Gale  _did_ have a hard head.

Gale removes his hand from his nose and glares at her for a moment.

“This better be good princess,” Gale finally says, walking over so he can lean against the wall and stare at her with ill-disguised contempt, the blood on his face glowing in the orange light.

“First of all, Al isn’t my boyfriend,” Madge tells him crossly. “And I’d really appreciate it if you stopped assuming that every guy I talk to _is_. I would only date a guy I love, and I’ve been in love with-”

Madge immediately clamps her mouth shut. Had she really been about to accidentally confess to Gale in the worst way possible?! 

“With who?” Gale asks, a strange expression on his face. Although it may just be strange since the lower half of his face is covered in glistening blood.

“Um, no one,” Madge flushes, wishing she could just tear out a piece of the floor like Gale had and just disappear.

“You clearly said you’re in love with someone,” Gale presses, taking a step towards her as she takes one back. “Who?”

“He, I…” Madge falters, unsure of what to say to get Gale to forget about what she just said. “I thought you said you didn’t care about what I did, or with whom?”

Gale frowns, obviously not liking his past words being used against him.

“Things are different now,” Gale insists. “You live with my family. I should know who is gonna be involved with them.”

“Don’t worry,” Madge can’t help but roll her eyes bitterly. “He won’t ever be involved with me. He’s in love with another girl.”

“Oh,” Gale says quietly, looking thoroughly unsettled.

“Anyways,” Madge continues uncomfortably. “Al has access to a lot of information 13 has that isn’t available to civilians. Together we found out some...pretty heavy things about this place.”

“What?” Gale asks unbelievingly. “What did you find out?”

“13 knew that 12 was going to be bombed before we did,” Madge tells him quietly, looking down at her feet pulling her arms in closer to her chest. “They didn’t warn us because they couldn’t accommodate our full population size. And the only reason why they saved the rest of us is because their population was too low from the plague that happened a few years ago down here.”

Gale doesn’t say anything, just stares at her as if she’s grown a third head.

“What’s more, is that the only reason why they’ve decided to join this war is because in 10 years, this entire place is set to fail,” Madge continues. “They need outside resources if they want to continue running.”

“Hell’s teeth!” Gale swears loudly, closing his eyes as he brings up both hands to clutch at his hair. “The entire rebellion depends on these assholes! Fuck!”

Madge lets him have his moment. She knows first hand that this is a lot to take in.

“How did you find out about this?” Gale asks suddenly, eyes flying open. “Did that guy, whatever his name, did he tell you all this?”

“No,” Madge shakes her head. “We compared notes, I guess you could say. Bristel and Delly helped me break into Internal Affairs, where I found this information.”

“You broke into Internal Affairs?” Gale nearly shouts. “How the hell did you pull that off?”

“Thom helped those two land a janitor job and they smuggled me in,” Madge tells him, frowning at his tone.

“Are you telling me all three of those idiots knew about this little heist, and not me?” Gale asks, and Madge realizes that besides angry, he looks...hurt?

“Well you never want me doing anything dangerous in the first place!” Madge defends herself, not understanding why she feels guilty. “If I told you about this you would have just done it yourself and or ignored me completely!”

“They could have shot you, Madge!” Gale shouts in frustration. “I should have been there, damnit! I should have…”

Gale trails off and clenches his hair again, beginning to pace madly.

“Well, what’s it matter to you if I’m shot or not, huh?” Madge demands angrily. She’s been up for over 16 hours, trained extensively for a fourth of it, and is _tired_ of being written off as useless by Gale, while he stakes the future of the country on Katniss’s shoulders.

“You don’t get it, do you,” Gale chuckles tonelessly, pausing in his pacing to stare at her, the blood on his now a dried brown. “I can’t see you die, Madge, not when I promised your parents I’d look after you.”

“What?” Madge breathes, heart suddenly racing at his words.

“That night, when I came to get you, your Mom told me I had their blessing, remember?” Gale asks her, as he recounts his version of that dire night. “Well...a few years ago, I was at the Justice Building to pick up some tesserae, and your Dad was right outside, talking with some peacekeepers.”

“I remember one of them asking if he had begun looking for suitors for you, since you had just turned 13,” he continues, no longer looking at her, but distantly at the wall, as if he’s 15 again and back in 12. “Your Dad just shook his head and said him and your Mom had only one condition: they’d give their blessing to whichever man that would protect her best from every evil out there.”

“And five years later, they gave me that blessing,” Gale finishes, gray eyes finally meeting hers again. “My family and I wouldn’t have survived if your Dad had kept the power on. I can’t just toss away his blessing.”

Madge is frozen, unable to speak or move. Her parents had known then, they had known about her feelings for him. Suddenly, Mother pressing her morphling vials into her hands after she had tearfully asked for it, and Father pulling her tightly into his arms, wordlessly, once she had returned from the blizzard made perfect sense. Gale doesn’t realize it, but her parents hadn’t just blessed him with the title of her protector that night, but they had given her hand to his.

Her hand he holds unknowingly.

“Gale,” Madge rasps. “You don’t have to feel obligated to look after me because my-”

“It’s not an obligation, ok?” Gale interrupts her. “You’re...a friend.”

Madge’s mouth falls open, she can’t help it.

“Well don’t look so surprised,” Gale grumbles and looks away again, sticking his bloody hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know what to say,” Madge says finally, still totally bewildered. “I kinda thought you’d just always hate me for being the Mayor’s kid.”

“What do you want, a love letter?” Gale snaps. “I said you’re my friend even after you broke my damn nose, which by the way would have resulted in  _your_ nose and more being broken, if you weren't a girl. So next move is yours, Undersee.”

“Yes!” Madge says quickly, and tries to hide how giddy she’s feeling. Is this actually happening? Had she actually gone from ‘enemy’ to ‘friend’ in Gale Hawthorne’s eyes? “I’d like to be your friend too.”

“Good,” Gale says gruffly, though his lips twitch upwards. “Because what we have to do next is gonna be a bitch, and we need to be as buddy buddy as can be if we’re gonna pull it off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR THE 100 KUDOS! I'm blown away by the response to this story, especially when I was expecting 10 readers, tops. It makes me happier than I can describe, to know someone out there enjoys reading what I've written.
> 
> As for the actual note: apologies for the shorter than usual chapter, but school is killing me. That said, this ch is a turning point in Madge and Gale's relationship, and a positive one I should add ;)
> 
> Anyways, how'd I do? Does their relationship seem natural or am I forcing it/rushing it? 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3


	15. Teenage Dreams

It’s rare at this time at night, but Gale tells her that sometimes a maintenance worker or two will be up here in the tunnels, so he leads her down the one they’re in till they reach a short ladder that leads up to a small, box shaped space carved into the wall that once housed a large apparatus that, for whatever reason, was taken out.  

The space is small, and Gale’s legs are so long, that once they’ve both crawled in, his legs practically tangle with hers, that’s how close they are to each other.  The thrill of sharing the same breaths with him is curved, however, by the sight of his broken nose, and crusted blood dried above the bow of his lips.

“I really am sorry about your nose,” Madge apologizes sheepishly once they’re more or less settled. She’s half tempted to just lift her legs and lay them on his lap, but that’s outrageously forward, especially for two people who are just….friends. “I hadn’t meant to break your nose, honest.”

“I’ll admit one thing, Princess,” Gale says dryly. “You have one hell of a right hook.”

“Are we not past the whole ‘princess’ thing?” Madge asks with a sigh. “It’s not even clever.”

“What can I say,” Gale quips, shrugging his shoulders. They’re so close that Madge can hear the rustle of his shirt when he does that. “It’s stuck.”

“Fine,” Madge agrees, only because she wants to move onto more important topics, rolling her eyes.

Tucked into the wall, hardly any lantern light reaches them, and Gale’s face is mostly obscured by shadows, but she can still see the white of his teeth when he grins. Maybe Al was right about that coal dust whitening their teeth.

“Knew you’d come around,” Gale says. “Now are you done talking about your feelings? We have a rebellion to save.”

Madge gives him an unimpressed look, and says nothing, waiting for him to continue speaking.

“Right,” Gale clears his throat, having received her signal to go on. He shifts slightly, his legs pressing even further into hers, and Madge has to try desperately to not shiver from the sparks she can feel between their practically entwined limbs. At least when he had hated her, it was easy to ignore her feelings for him, but now, practically shoved into his lap, Madge is painfully aware of just how attractive Gale is, and hopes the buckets she had begun to sweat beneath her clothes despite the chill in the air didn’t reek.

“We obviously can’t carry out a rebellion without 13’s resources,” Gale begins, lowering his voice, even though they’re still alone. “So we need to beat them at their own game.”

“What do you mean by that?” Madge asks, beginning to realize that Gale Hawthorne is in a league of his own when it comes to masterminding plans.

“Think about it, Princess, it’s all about how people perceive you,” Gale explains. “We thought that 13 was some sort of fucking heaven on Earth, so we never questioned anything that went down here. Our best bet is to act as if we live to kiss Coin’s ass, and get real chummy with the higher ups, so we know what they’re planning.”

“But what good will knowing do if we can’t  _ do  _ anything about it?” Madge asks, almost desperately. This question has been going off in her mind every few minutes since she broke into Internal Affairs, and she still has no answers.

“Madge,” Gale chuckles, taking her by surprise. “You’ve already answered that yourself. We expose them, like how you did when you told me about what they’ve done. What they plan to do.”

“What, we just make a video of ourselves talking about how terrible 13 is, and everyone will just nod and agree?” Madge huffs, annoyed at how lightly he’s taking all this.

“That obviously won’t work,” Gale quickly dismisses. “No, we make them desperate. We make them  _ sloppy _ . Hype up every loss and invalidate every win. Coin’s proven that she doesn’t mind over half a District being wiped out as long as it fits her agenda, who knows what she’ll do if she feels pressured to win a war? Maybe we’ll get lucky and not have to even do anything- Coin just issues out an order that’s enough to topple her little set up here once everyone knows about it. We’d just have to remain vigilant and stop things before they happen.”

His plan is not perfect, and she knows  _ he  _ knows this by the way he’s looking down. If they do what he says, then they’ll both probably be executed if they were found to have meddled with Coin’s plans. And if they keep their heads down and don’t intercede, then there’s a high chance that something could happen beneath their noses.

“All of the suffering the Panem has endured will go to waste if we topple one government only to let it be replaced by a slightly less shitier one,” Gale argues.

Madge sighs and rests her head against the concrete wall that sits uncomfortably behind her.

“What?” Gale asks gruffly, probably waiting for criticism on his plan. The truth is, Madge can’t think of any other way of doing things. And that’s what’s so tiring.

“Nothing,” Madge answers quietly. “I just feel...old.”

“Old?” Gale echoes, bringing his hands up to rest on top of his knees, their sides brushing against Madge’s legs.

“Yeah,” Madge nods. “Old. It doesn’t feel like a very teenage thing to do, coming up with high-risk plans to save an entire nation.”

“Big risk, big gain.”

Madge doesn’t say anything, just looks down at Gale’s hands that are brushing against her legs. With every passing moment of silence, she felt more and more insecure in their plan- so much could go so wrong.

“Do you remember learning about mummies?” Gale asks suddenly. “Not like moms. But those things people did before the dark days to preserve their dead.”

“So they’d be able to come to life in the next life,” Madge adds, letting him know she understood his reference. “What about them?”

“That’s what we’re doing right now,” Gale tells her. “We’re mummifying our teenage dreams. We have to be patient, and smart, but I think we’ll see these dreams come to life.”

“Is revolution a teenage thing to dream?” Madge muses thoughtfully

“Definitely,” Gale replies. “Life hasn’t dimmed our flames yet. Who else would be better to raise hell than a bunch of teenagers?”

Madge wishes there was more light shining on him, so she could glimpse that very fire he spoke of that no doubt burned in his eyes at this moment. In fact, she could practically feel it cackling between them, and the space between them was suddenly both too far, and too close.

She wanted to devour him, she realizes with a jolt. She wants to climb into his lap, and whisper tales of ancient heroes who spurred on uprisings just like him, and to soak in the fire that would ignite from within his skin. Madge wanted to be the keeper of his flame; the caretaker of the hearth in his heart, pouring petroleum into his soul to feed the spark that kept him alive.

“Undersee?” Gale asks, pulling her from her trance. “Still with me?”

_ I’ll always be with you. _

“Yeah,” Madge says hoarsely, before clearing her throat. “I was just thinking about what you were saying. You’re right. We can’t let those who have laid down their lives for justice to have their sacrifices go in vain. We need to bring down 13.”

Gale doesn’t say anything at that, just sits very still and watches her. Then, without warning, a hand that lie on his one of knees moves over just an inch so that it rests atop of her thigh, his fingers spreading out so they cover as much surface area of her leg that they can. Madge gasps at the sudden heat of his palm permeating through the fabric of her pants, and something below her navel  _ quivers  _ in exhilaration.

Before either of them can do anything further, a pipe near them makes a loud pitched whistling noise as some of the steam carried in it escapes, startling Madge so badly she jumps in her seat. Instantly, Gale’s hand is off her thigh and shoved into his pocket, far from her.

“We do,” Gale says gruffly, looking away from her and into the tunnel.

Madge opens her mouth, trying to remember how to speak. It had of course been just a casual, reaffirming touch between two friends, but the place where his hand had been moments ago still burned, and Madge wondered desperately how she could work with Gale without getting burned.

“So,” Gale says loudly, finally looking back at her. “Tell me about your Capitol tool. What can he do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry about how short this chapter is, but finals are killing me, and if I wrote out the entire chapter it would take forever to update. 
> 
> BUUUT i did make a tumblr specifically for gadge and my writing, so pls come over there and talk to me!! i might post teasers for the next ch, drabbles, etc. idk yet
> 
> the tumblr: gadgeandi.tumblr.com


	16. Adults

They stay there for a few more hours as they try to polish the rough edges of their plan. After Madge had told him her idea of recruiting Bristel as a messenger, Gale had conceded that working with Al was only logical if they wanted a chance at bringing down 13. As the night went on, Madge grew sleepier, and sometimes, when Gale would be speaking, and the tingles her legs felt from pressing against his subsided into a bubbly feeling that settled in her lungs, she felt as if she was in a trance; that she was no longer in her body, it was just the essence of her and Gale, trying determinedly to save their world.

By the time a lull had come in their conversation, it was 15 minutes till 6, which meant the curfew was more or less over, since the day was just about to start and they were more lenient if you you were outside your room.

“We should get your nose checked out,” Madge tells Gale through a yawn. It’s swollen and his voice has gotten nasally, which was kinda funny to hear.

“You should go to sleep,” Gale retorts. “You look like you’re gonna start drooling on me any second.”

“I don’t drool,” Madge informs him, moving her stiff muscles to crawl out of their small space. “Nor do I snore. I am the perfect sleeper.”

“Such talent,” Gale comments sarcastically from behind her.

“Besides,” Madge yawns again. “I can’t sleep, I have training.”

“And who’s fault is that,” Gale mutters darkly besides her as they make their way down the tunnel. “You have a head harder than a rock.”

“Quit butting your head with it then,” Madge laughs quietly as she stretches out her arms.

“Easier said than done,” Gale mutters again, but Madge ignores him in favor of asking another question.

“So can I just push up any ceiling panel and get into a tunnel?” Madge asks as if he lifts the piece from where they had entered.

“No,” Gale answers as he carefully pulls the piece out from its place. “You see it’s edges?” he angles the panel towards her so she can see what he’s pointing out. “It doesn’t have sealant around it, like every other panel. It’s hard to see since it’s so thin and almost transparent, but you can usually feel for it. If there’s no sealant, you can remove it.”

“Wow,” Madge remarks, genuinely impressed. “I’m not even going to ask _how_ you found that out.”

“I have my ways,” Gale says with a smirk. “Now move it, I don’t have all day.”

“Yes sir,” Madge says sarcastically, as she carefully lowers herself back into the supply closet. A moment later, Gale lands next to her.

“Show off,” Madge rolls her eyes as he puts the panel back in.

“Not my fault I’m good at everything,” Gale says cheekily, as Madge cracks open the door to make sure there isn’t anyone in the hall.

“All clear,” she announces, stepping out, with Gale right behind her. “So. Hospital Wing?”

“You know you can’t ‘fix’ a broken nose, right?” Gale asks her pointedly, making Madge bristle in embarrassment. “They’ll just give me some numbing cream.”

“Let’s get you some numbing cream then,” Madge says, tugging on his shirt sleeve to get him moving. “And maybe something that’ll make your voice a little less girly.”

“It is _not_ girly!” Gale denies indignantly, making Madge laugh all over again.

“Whatever you say”

Gale glowers the rest of the way to the hospital. Madge tries to add a little bounce to her step in an effort to keep herself awake.

“Can we take the stairs?” Madge asks once they near the elevators. She’ll probably doze off in the elevator, which would be highly embarrassing.

Gale actually looks slightly relieved at her suggestion, confirming her suspicions from a while ago that elevators freaked him out. She made a note to always take the stairs with him.

They’ve been climbing up the stairs for a good five minutes before Gale speaks again.

“So...does your fella know you like him?” Gale asks casually, looking straight ahead.

Madge blinks as she observes the irony of the situation. Had this been happening to anyone else she may have found the moment even a little comical.

“No,” Madge answers with a chuckle. “And I intend to keep it that way.”

“Is it Mellark?” Gale suddenly snaps, looking at her in annoyance. “Because if it is, I swear to God, I do _not_ see what the big fuss is about.”

Madge can’t help but giggle at this. “Goodness no,” she says as she catches her breath. “Me and Peeta? That’d be a terrible match.”

“Not that I disagree,” Gale says with a frown. “But why do _you_ think that?”

“We’re too similar,” Madge shrugs. It’s that simple, at least to her. “On the off-chance of sounding extremely corny, there would be no passion in that relationship. We’re too similar- there’s no chemistry.”

“What’s wrong with being similar?” Gale argues. “I think that would be a healthy relationship or whatever.”

“Healthy or boring?” Madge asks with a sideways glance. “I’m not saying you should marry your worst enemy, but you should be with someone because they bring out the best in you, not because it’s easy.”

“Katniss brings out the best in me,” Gale says a-matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure she does,” Madge says quietly, trying to keep the sadness off her face. “Katniss is a wonderful person.”

What had she been thinking? Practically mooning over Gale all night when she knew, _knows_ that he loves Katniss, wholly and unconditionally. Good going Madge, playing up the role of the lovesick idiot quite well.

“If it isn’t bread boy, then who?” Gale asks once more, pulling Madge from despondent thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter Gale, we’re just not meant to be,” Madge shakes her head, hating how pathetic she sounds. Why can’t she be more like Katniss, who, even with two perfect guys at her feet, could care less about romance?

“Well, he sounds like an asshole,” Gale says gruffly. “Sounds to me you’re better off without him.”

Madge can only laugh at this.

* * *

“Christ Undersee, I swear to God, if you were a dude, I’d be shoving your head into a toilet,” Gale grumbles, shooting her a sour look. It turned out that they had waited too long to go to the Hospital, and one of the doctors had to re-break his nose to set it properly, hence his worse than usual grumpiness.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” Madge rolls her eyes, no longer feeling guilty about punching him.

“Oh it is,” Gale says darkly. “I’m just a one-in-a-million kinda guy,”

They were on their way to visit Katniss, who was scheduled for yet another day of filming. Because of his nose, Gale was given time off from training. It was also found out that she had a hairline fracture in one of her knuckles from when she decked Gale. In all honesty, it didn’t hurt too bad, mostly just soreness, but it got her out of training….which was another day she was behind the rest of the CG. She tried not to dwell on that.

“Panem has a population of around 5 million,” Madge recounts from memory. “So...there are, what? Four other guys like you then?”

Gale just rolls his eyes. “Nerd.”

Their light banter continues until they reach the designated spot. Madge has never been in this part of 13 before, and just stands and watches as Gale scans his badge. The light goes green.

“Katniss got me access,” Gale explains, holding open the door for her.

“Ah,” Madge says, nodding her head, trying not to feel too hurt that she hadn’t done the same for her. Then again, this _was_ the first time she was visiting her.

The room is dark except for the large stage lights that are all centered on where Katniss stands alone in front of a green colored screen. She’s in an elaborate black uniform, complete with a bow and arrows, and her makeup is artfully done, giving her the look of a warrior goddess. To the side is long table filled with various foods, most of which, Madge has never seen once in the cafeteria below them.

“People of Panem!” Katniss exclaims in a voice Madge assumes is supposed to be passionate. Her face is unnaturally blank, and posture awkward. Madge can’t help but cringe at the sight.“Rise up, and fight!”

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE INSPIRING PEOPLE!” a man’s voice yells out angrily from a speaker. Madge looks over and finds a small enclosed balcony where several people watch Katniss. “Are you even trying?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Katniss says frustratedly. She drops her bow and along with it, her face falls. “It’s just...really hard.”

That’s all it takes to set Madge off. Rushing up the stairs that leads to the control room, Madge pounds on the door impatiently. A moment later, the door is opened by a very confused looking woman with wide-set eyes, but Madge pays her no attention.

Storming into the room, Madge crosses her arms as she takes in the sole male inhabitant. He’s certainly got meat on his bones, and his gray hair is elegantly parted. But it’s from the air he exudes, in the way he crosses his elbows, and stares back at her, that she knows he’s Capitol.

“Madge Undersee,” she introduces herself icily. “I assume you’re in charge of productions, Mr…”

“Heavensbee,” the man says with a chuckle, chair creaking as he pushes himself out of it. “Plutarch Heavensbee. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

Madge’s bravado is nearly lost right there and then. What on Earth is the _head gamemaker_ doing down here?

“I don’t believe we’re acquainted,” Madge finally manages to say, straightening her spine to regain her look of control. You don’t become head gamemaker without being an excellent player yourself-and right now, Madge needs to play along as best as she can.

“We’re not,” Heavensbee admits with another chuckle, looking highly amused. Behind him, the various control panels glow softly in the dark room, shading his skin in several colors. There are two other women in the room, but they’re both busy going over the footage of Katniss they’ve just filmed. Judging by the tension in their shoulders, it's not satisfactory. “But I’ve seen a few of your interviews back from Miss. Everdeen’s first game. The fact that you gave her the pin certainly caught my eye as well.”

It made her nervous, to have caught the eye of someone like him. She didn’t know why, but in front of him, she felt childish, as if he knew something that she didn’t. And yet, as she looked back into his blue eyes, she didn’t feel afraid or distrustful of him. Maybe it was the easiness in his gaze, or the fact that he betrayed the Capitol despite having benefited greatly from its wealth, that let Madge feel at ease with him.

“Of course,” Madge tips her head. “Then you know that Katniss and I are close.”

“More or less,” Heavensbee says slowly, cocking his head to the side as he waits for her to continue.

“Then you’ll believe me when I say shouting at Katniss won’t make her work better,” Madge nearly scorns. “She has the weight of the entire rebellion, and more, on her shoulders, and the last thing she needs is any more negative stimuli.”

Heavensbee looks her up and down slowly. Not in the way most men leer at women, but an architect a city schematic. A game maker a board game.

“You’re absolutely right Miss. Undersee,” Heavensbee says sharply, clapping his hands together in finality. “I’ll go apologize to Miss. Everdeen immediately.”  The two editing women look up at him, annoyed, but say nothing.

“Oh, well, good,” Madge says awkwardly, surprised at how easily he had accepted her criticism.

Gale and Katniss are by the table of food, with Gale scarfing down its contents and Katniss nibbling on a puff pastry. At a closer look, Madge is sure: the rest of 13 doesn’t eat as opulently as this spread. She bites down her annoyance as Gale reaches for another roll-it seems his class analysis is only activated when it's _him_ that can’t eat nicely.

“Madge,” Katniss greets with a smile. Madge returns the greeting and picks up a fruit tart. Sure, she doesn’t like it that the higher ups of 13 have a more refined palate than the average citizen, but at the moment she’s starving, and isn’t really in the place to do anything.

“Miss. Everdeen, I’d like to apologize,” Heavensbee begins graciously. “Your friend here,” Heavensbee gestures to her, and Katniss’s eyes cut to her sharply. “Pointed it out to me that you need optimal working conditions for optimal results.”

Katniss just nods, and doesn’t say anything. Beside her, Gale glares at Heavensbee, clearly not accepting his apology for being short with her.

“Take the day off tomorrow,” Heavensbee says good naturedly. “We’ll start off Saturday on a new foot, what’s say?”

“I say that’s useless,” a new voice cuts in. A voice Madge knows very well.

Mr. Abernathy walks into the room. To her shock, his gait isn’t drunkenly sloppy, nor is his appearance disheveled to any degree.

“Care to expand on that, Haymitch?” Heavensbee asks half-amusedly, half annoyed.

“No,” Mr. Abernathy says gruffly, coming to stand right across from Madge. She’s never seen his eyes when they weren’t glazed over, and their new intensity makes her look down. “I need to speak with the girl.”

Madge’s head snaps right back up. “Mr. Abernathy, I know what this is about-”

“Please,” Mr. Abernathy cuts in, in a voice so small and so _unlike_ him, that Madge finds herself nodding even though she doesn’t want to.

“What’s your business with Undersee?” Gale asks rudely, looking at Mr. Abernathy with open disdain.

“Ah, the cousin,” Mr. Abernathy responds in equal disdain. “Someone finally busted that ugly beak of yours for poking it in business that ain’t yours, eh?”

Gale angrily slams his half-eaten roll on the table, but Katniss quickly steps in front of him, a reassuring hand on his chest.

“Don’t, Gale,” Katniss says softly. He looks down at her, and something so _familiar_ passes between them silently, that it makes Madge’s chest ache with jealousy. All it took was a touch from Katniss, while Madge was forced to resort to fists.

Mr. Abernathy must have grown bored with Katniss and Gale’s little moment, because he turns around and begins walking, assuming Madge will follow. She follows without looking back once.

“I’ll be waiting for those suggestions!” Heavensbee calls after them, voice strained with agitation.

She knows why Mr. Abernathy’s  asked to speak with her. It’s the same reason why he used shower her with gifts from the Capitol, and make a point of holding a conversation with her at least once a week back when 12 was still around. He was drunk during those awkward meetings, though less so than his usual state, her Father sitting besides her half as a chaperone, and half as just someone to lighten the tension.

In some, convoluted, irrational way, he thinks looking after her is his way of paying back whatever debt he thinks he owes to her late aunt.

They end up at his room, and they sit across from each other in a tense silence. Mr. Abernathy won’t stop staring at her, and Madge has to keep pinching herself covertly to stay awake. What little sugar rush she had gotten from the fruit tart was gone now.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Abernathy finally murmurs, looking down at his hands. In the low lighting, he looks aged, as if he’s lived too many lives that were not his own. In a way, Madge supposes he has. “I found out about your parents.”

It’s Madge’s turn to look down at her hands. His words bring forward the pain she’s able to mostly keep in the back of her mind. Now, out in the open, it threatens to pull apart her ribcage.

She’s come farther than she thought she would, but it still surprises her just how terribly she misses her parents.

“Are you living by yourself?” Mr. Abernathy asks, his voice gravelly concerned.

“No,” Madge replies with a shake of her head. “Hazelle Hawthorne was kind enough to take me in.”

This doesn’t sit well with Mr. Abernathy, and he frowns. “Why?”

Madge fidgets uncomfortably in her seat. The truth is, she _doesn’t_ know why Hazelle took her in. Whatever debt she felt she owed to Madge for the morphling was paid twice over when she made Gale save her from the bombs.

“I’m not sure,” Madge admits, unable to lie to one of the few adults who half-way cared about her. “But the entire family is very lovely, I assure you, I’m very happy with them.”

“Lovely?” Mr. Abernathy scoffs. “You call that Hawthorne kid _lovely?_ ”

“He’s not the only Hawthorne kid,” Madge explains patiently, knowing exactly which ‘kid’ he’s referring to. “And he treats me just fine, by the way.” Usually.

Mr. Abernathy raises an eyebrow at this. “Oh, does he?”

Madge frowns at him. “What are you implying?”

“I’m _implying_ , Pearl, that that boy is nothing but trouble!” Mr. Abernathy fumes, his gray eyes bright with anger. “Always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, and making things harder than they have to be.”

Best not to tell him about the business _she’s_ been sticking her nose in. “Gale doesn’t say anything to me.”

Now it’s Mr. Abernathy’s turn to look uncomfortable. “He uh...respects your boundaries then?”

“Yes!” Madge exclaims, bringing up her hands to cover her burning cheeks, her traitorous mind replaying the memory of Gale’s hot hand on her thigh. “We’re just friends!”

“I’m just trying to look out for you Pearl,” Mr. Abernathy says tiredly, sighing. “I tried to get out of that damn dry up as quick as I could. I should have been there for you.”

“I’m glad you’re sober,” Madge tells him genuinely, giving him a warm smile. “You really don’t have to worry about me, Mr. Abernathy. I’m fine, really.”

Mr. Abernathy just shakes his head as his expression becomes closed off. “May was just the same. Insisting till the very end that she was fine.”

“I’m not Maysilee,” Madge whispers, hating this even needs to be said. She doesn’t want to be defined by who she’s connected to. Maysilee’s niece. Mayor Undersee’s daughter. Katniss’s friend. “I’m Madge.”

“I know,” Mr. Abernathy says quietly, closing his eyes. “I just can’t see you hurt.”

“Give me some time Pearl,” Mr. Abernathy croaks, slowly opening his now bleary eyes. “To be there for you in the ways you need.”

“What I need,” Madge says kindly. “Are people that care about me. So you’re doing fantastically, really, you are.”

Mr. Abernathy looks so small and _broken_ in that moment, that Madge doesn’t hesitate in getting up and wrapping her arms tightly around him. His arms come around her almost immediately, and soon her shoulder is wet with his tears as he cries quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs as Madge shushes him. It’s a recurring trope in her life, to coddle the adults around her. “You must have been so scared, all by yourself..”

“I wasn’t alone,” Madge says firmly. She pulls away just enough so that Mr. Abernathy’s red eyes can look into her clear ones. “And neither are you. We’ll look after each other, ok? Not out of regret, or fear, or debt, but because we _care_.”

For a moment, he just looks at her, and Madge doesn’t need to ask to know that he isn’t seeing her, but Maysilee. But then his eyes clear, and Mr. Abernathy gives her a watery smile. “You Donner girls always know what to say.”

* * *

Madge sighs in relief when she finally sees Hazelle and Posy’s room door. Her head is aching, and if she doesn’t sleep soon, she’ll pass out.

Her simple plan of going in and collapsing on her cot, is interrupted by the sobbing Posy that Hazelle is holding.

“What happened?” Madge asks in a panic, rushing over to the mother-daughter pair. “Is everything alright?!”

“Si-sissy?” Possy hiccups, face bright red and wet from her tears, immediately pushing away from her Ma and into Madge’s arms. “I thought you h-had left me!”

“What?” Madge asks, looking up at Hazelle for clarification, only to be met with a stern expression.

“You didn’t come back last night,” Hazelle said in controlled anger. “Posy hardly slept.”

_Oh_

“I’m so sorry Posy,” Madge apologizes earnestly, hugging the crying girl even tighter. Her shoulder had barely dried from Mr. Abernathy’s tears. “I was just up doing some work. I would never leave you.”

“Promise?” Posy asks in a small voice.

“Promise,” Madge says, and means it.

“You should have told me,” Hazelle scolds, crossing her arms. Madge suddenly understands why Vick and Rory are so much better behaved in front of their Ma. “I was worried sick.”

“I’m sorry,” Madge repeats shamefully. “I totally forgot to tell you.”

Hazelle’s features soften, and she reaches down to brush a stray hair behind her ear. The gesture is so tender, and _maternal_ , that Madge is the one that nearly starts crying.

“Don’t do it again,” Hazelle says sternly, but her eyes are soft. “Alright Posy, enough moping. Let’s get some lunch.”

Posy is inseparable from her from then on, beginning to wail as soon as Madge even suggests putting her down. Belatedly, Madge realizes that her separation anxiety may very well be a symptom of the bombings. She doesn’t ask her to get off her lap after that, contently eating with a bouncing Posy.

And then Gale came.

“Gale!” Hazelle exclaims as soon as he sat across from her. “What on Earth happened to your nose?!” Madge very pointedly looked away from him, face burning.

“Well well well,” Rory greets mockingly. “Is _that_ why you didn’t come back last night?”

“ _What_?” Hazelle asks sharply, and thought Madge still isn’t looking at her, she knows that Hazelle is staring at her. “Where exactly were you two last night?”

“Madge and I were working,” Gale answers gruffly, wisely deciding it would be best not to lie to Hazelle and say that they weren’t together.

“Madge!” Vick suddenly pipes up. “Are you getting a robot hand?”

Everyone at the table looks down at her bandaged hand, which she quickly hides under the table, but Posy reaches under and prods the bandage with her tiny fingers.

“I don’t feel any metal Vick!” Posy informs him with wide eyes. “Just band aid!”

Rory, of course, is the first to piece the puzzle together.

“Oh God!” Rory hollers, throwing his head back as he laughs loudly. “Madge broke your nose, didn’t she, Gale?”

Madge looks remorsefully at Hazelle, but she’s too busy glaring at Gale.

“What did you do?” Hazelle demands angrily.

“Why are you automatically assuming _I_ did something?” Gale huffs, shoving Rory who’s trying to prod his nose away.

“Because I know Madge,” Hazelle says with a roll of her eyes. Madge can’t help but smile at this. “She’d never _punch_ someone without very good cause.”

“It was a mistake,” Madge cut in, saving Gale from explaining how huge of a jerk he was acting like to his Ma. “We were training, and he didn’t duck fast enough.”

“Wimp,” Rory snickers. Gale glares at him, and Hazelle looks at Madge suspiciously.

“That so?” Hazelle asks in an I-don’t-buy-it voice.

Before Madge can answer, a hand on her shoulder cuts her off.

It’s Bella, one of the naked girls to have confronted her in the locker room. Now that they’re both clothed and not moments away from a fist fight, Madge is able to notice her blonde hair, and her brown eyes have almost yellowish flakes in them.

“Hey,” Bella greets politely, dropping her hand from her shoulder. Madge nods back, unsure why she’s talking to her again all of a sudden. “You weren’t in today, so I thought I’d just stop by and let you know that our qualifying exam has been moved. It’s tomorrow now, instead of Monday.”

“Great,” Madge groans, covering her face with her uninjured hand. Now she’s certain to fail.

“Just thought I’d let you know,” Bella says awkwardly, already starting to walk away.

“Thanks!” Madge quickly calls after her. She didn’t need to tell Madge, and she greatly appreciated the gesture. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Belle repeats with a grin.

When Madge turns back in her seat, Hazelle is still frowning.

“So, tell me about this _training_ you two were doing last night.”

Looks like she wasn't getting that nap anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter was like pulling out teeth that don't wanna come out. It was awfully hard, and I'm not satisfied with the end results at all. I'm sorry about this low quality chapter, but the truth is, I've recently been having a lot of doubts with this story. I'm swarmed with "I should have done this" and "I shouldn't have done that". I'm trying really hard to get out of this rut, but its....hard. I won't even ask if you enjoyed this chapter, bc I sure didn't, so I'll just say, thanks for reading, and thanks even more for sticking with me.


	17. Champions

“You’ll do wonderfully, I’m sure of it,” Hazelle tells her confidently, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “You’re a smart girl, Madge, don’t doubt yourself.”

Madge holds back her comment that her examination is more of a test of strength, Hazelle is just trying to be supportive after all.

“Can I come Sissy?” Posy asks excitedly, bouncing up and down. How the girl has this much energy in the morning, Madge still doesn’t know.

“I’m sorry Pose, but it’s for big kids only,” Madge answers sadly, leaning down to engulf her in a hug. “But I’ll see you at lunch, ok?”

“Fine,” Posy pouts. At her Ma’s prompting, she presses a wet kiss onto her cheek. “Good lucky!”

“Thank you,” Madge coos, kissing her back.

“Here,” Vick says shyly, thrusting a piece of paper in front of her. “Since I couldn’t make the actual thing, I drew it for you.”

Deciding it’s best not to ask where he got the paper in front of his Ma, since the answer will most definitely involve theft of some kind, Madge unfolds it and finds a roughly drawn picture of her, with bionic armor.

Cyborg Madge.

“Thank you, Vick,” Madge says genuinely, pressing the paper tightly against her chest. “This is one of the best presents I’ve ever gotten.”

Vick just blushes and shrugs his shoulders, looking down at his porridge sheepishly. “It’s nothing.”

Besides him, Rory snorts. Rory really isn’t a morning person, as is evident from the way he’s nearly falling asleep over his food, but his personality still manages to shine through.

“G’luck,” Rory mutters, eyes barely open. “Kick Gale’s butt.”

Gale just rolls his eyes, probably too tired himself to insult Rory.

“Let’s go,” he says to her, picking up his tray. Madge says her goodbyes once more, tucks Vick’s drawing into her chest pocket, and follows him.

Either coincidentally or planned, Bristel, Delly, and Thom also have their respective qualifying exams today.

“I’m so nervous,” Delly whimpers, burying her face into Thom’s arm as they all make their way to their separate destinations. “What if I don’t have what it takes to be a botanist?”

“Don’t say that babe,” Thom assures her, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close. “I bet you’ll make the scariest plant there is!”

“That’s not what botanists do, but ok,” Bristel replies for Delly, rolling her eyes. Out of the four of them, Bristel was probably the most nervous, what with her constant hand wringing, and the dark circles under her eyes, though she didn’t vocalize her fears.

“Whatever,” Thom retorts. “While you’re staring at a computer screen, I’ll be shooting down Capitol assholes from my super awesome hovercraft.”

Eventually Delly, Bristel, and Thom all break off and go to their designated testing locations, leaving Madge and Gale alone.

“So,” Gale starts, as they head up the final flight of stairs. “Ready to be a soldier?”  
  
“Definitely,” Madge answers with a large smile, though her insides are a shaking mess. She isn’t sure if she can deal with the humiliation that would come from failing, and at the moment, the odds were _not_ in her favor.

“Just keep a clear head and you’ll be fine,” Gale says easily, shrugging his shoulders as if she’s about to take a walk in a park

“I’m sorry, since when were you in support of me passing?” Madge asks, a bit caustically.

“Since you broke my nose,” Gale answers with a smirk that makes Madge look down in embarrassment. “You clearly know what you want.”

Madge doesn’t know how to reply to that, so they both stay quiet as they walk into the large training room. The rest of the CG are already lined up and awaiting further orders, so Madge hurries over and joins them. To her surprise, the girls from before, Leah, Bella, and Heather, all make their way over to stand with her.

“Remember what I said, princess,” Gale reminds her once he’s caught up and standing in front of her. “And don’t take too long, you know how much I hate waiting.”

“Yes,” Madge says exaggeratedly. “That’s all I’ll be thinking about during my exam, how impatient you are.”

“I prefer ‘action-ready’,” Gale rolls his eyes. “Good luck.”

“You too,” Madge says instinctively, and then cringes. He doesn’t have an exam to take-no, Gale Hawthorne was just naturally so fit and skilled, he was considered a non-civilian the moment he was registered.

“Wow,” the girl besides Bella comments. “Your boyfriend is like, really hot.”

Madge leans over Bella, only to look at a second Bella.

“Wait, what?” Madge asks confusedly, looking between the two girls. They were identical. Heather, she easily recognized, since she was the one who was directly threatening Madge, but the other two, she hadn’t had a close look at.

“Your boyfriend,” Bella’s clone repeats. “He’s hot.”

“No, are you two twins?” Madge asks, as she looks closely at the two. Bella arches an eyebrow at this.

“Did you not notice that before?” she asks, almost incredulously. Then, some understanding dawns on her expression. “That’s why you were able to correctly recognize me,” she says with a laugh, shaking her head. “You didn’t remember what Leah looked like.”

“Guilty,” Madge says in embarrassment. “Though in my defense, I was a bit caught up in the moment, when we first met.”

Both Leah and Bella look over to glare at Heather, who is pointedly looking away.

“Anyways,” Madge says, to cut through the sudden awkward tension. “Gale isn’t my boyfriend, he’s just a friend.”

“Nice,” Leah says with an approving nod. “All the benefits, none of the drama.”

Madge frowned. Something about her words seemed off, but she wasn’t sure what, so she just nodded, not wanting to look lame.

“You should put your hair down,” Bella says suddenly. “It’s a tradition in 13, all women before they become soldiers wear their hair down, at least during the exam, and if they qualify, they put it in buns."

Madge looks up the line, and sure enough, every girl as her hair down. Not wanting to be the only oddball, she reached up and pulled out her ponytail. The last time she had cut her hair was months before the bombings, and now, her hair nearly reached her lower back. Straightened, she had no doubt it would go lower, thus making it the longest her hair had ever been.

The girls, minus Heather, make idle chit chat as girls are called in one by one. The conversation is easy, and soon enough, Madge is able to forget that she has an impending examination coming up very soon.

“Bella Leeg,” an instructor with a tablet calls out. “You’re next.”

“Here goes nothing,” Bella says, mostly to herself, before confidently marching to the exist.

After about ten minutes, Leah is called, and Madge is left alone with her thoughts. She had two choices: to go in with a positive attitude, and the mindset that whatever happens, happens for the best of reasons, or to go in downtrodden and pessimistic, and let that negatively affect her. The choice was obvious. She would try her best, remembering her Father’s favorite saying, ‘honest and hard work, always pays off’.

“Heather Samron.”

Heather uncrosses her arms and begins to make her way, before suddenly pausing in front of Madge.

“Trust what you know, not what you see,” she says cryptically, before resuming her exit, leaving Madge to stare at her back in bewilderment. Had that been a hint? Friendly advice? A sly sabotage?

In the end, she wasn’t able to reach a conclusion on neither the intent of Heather’s statement, nor its meaning, because her name was finally called, and it was her turn.

She leaves the room and walks down a dimly lit hallway to where there are two large doors at the end. She takes several, deep, calming breaths, before pushing them open.

As promised, in front of her sits an obstacle course. What wasn’t mentioned to them, was just how elaborate it would all be.

“Welcome Cadet,” a static voice over the PA system greets her. “Your task today is simple. Do you see the red lever at the end of the course?”

Madge squints, and sure enough, at the top of a large foam box, mounted onto the wall is a red lever. Next to it is a large, digitalized clock, that reads 00:00.

“I see it,” Madge confirms.

“Excellent. You have ten minutes to make it across the course and pull the lever down. Failure to complete the task in 10 minutes will guarantee a rank below five. Any questions?”

“No,” Madge answers, hoping they don’t hear the tremor in her voice.

“Your time begins as soon as you make your first move. Good luck Cadet.”

Madge takes a deep breath as she scans the course. To actually enter it, she’ll have to choose from a fork: the left path seems clear of any obstacles, while the right is a pool of foam boxes that she would have to swim/trudge through.

_Trust what you know, not what you see_

She’s reminded of Heather’s words as she contemplates what should be her first move. The left path is suspiciously clear, and the right one will eat up a lot of precious time getting through from.

Wait.

With a sudden stroke of inspiration, she rushes to the right fork and picks up a foam cube. For good measure, she picks up another one. Taking careful aim, she throws a cube in a clear arc, and it lands neatly in the middle of the path. Immediately, from the padded wall, through holes she can’t see from where she stands, a burst of gas is released. Even from at the distance she’s standing, it burns her eyes. She throws the second cube, and is pleased to note that it doesn’t trigger another release of the unknown gas. Pulling her shirt up to cover her nose, Madge rushes over to the left path, and drops to her knees, crawling under the worst of the gas cloud. It still stings, but she’s able to get out of it with only some minor coughing.

 Out of the gas cloud, she comes face to face with a small chasm that has small, mushroom looking pedestals for her to help her cross. Immediately, she knows if she falls off, she won’t be able to easily pull herself out of the chasm, since it was about seven feet deep, and the mushroom like things were scraping by six feet.

Standing up, Madge eyes the closest mushroom carefully, and goes to jump only to immediately stop herself.  This happens twice more, before Madge pinches herself angrily, and finally makes the leap.

Her landing is unstable, and before she’s able to regain her balance, the pedestal starts moving down.

Of course.

She nearly falls face first off the mushroom, but she painfully clutches the edge of the mushroom just in time, righting herself. All the other mushrooms are moving up and down too, and Madge is suddenly more than angry at whoever designed the course. How on Earth was anyone expected to complete the course in under 10 minutes?

The closest mushroom is about 3 feet away, but the way it’s moving up and down only increases the already high chance of her falling off it upon landing. She stays for some time, chewing her lip worriedly as she wonders what she should do. As the mushroom she’s on begins to go down once more, she realizes with a gasp that this is actually to her advantage.

As soon as her mushroom is at its lowest point, she jumps off it, slightly wincing at the impact, before running to the end of the chasm. She waits for the last mushroom to lower, before jumping up and grabbing on to it, climbing up it as it begins to go up again. By the time she’s made it to the top, the mushroom has stopped ascending, and the ledge is right there. A bit sloppily, she heaves herself onto it.

She risks a glance at the clock, and nearly groans. It’s already been six minutes and 15 seconds, and she isn’t even half way through!

The next obstacle is just a balance beam across another chasm, but Madge has no doubt that as soon as she steps on it, something will happen.

Sure enough, as soon as both of her feet or on the beam, it begins to pour rain.

With a frustrated shriek, Madge shoves her damp hair away from her face, and slowly edges down the now extremely slipper beam, all while being pelted by ice cold water. She keeps a hand above her heart, where Vick’s drawing is housed, desperate to keep it as dry as she can. By a miracle of God, she makes it to the end, and without a second thought, jumps to the hanging rope in front of it.

Finally out of the downpour, Madge is able to make past beyond her hands, and see’s now that she should have been more careful jumping onto the rope, because now she doesn’t have enough momentum to swing to the next ledge. With nowhere to go but up, Madge climbs the rope, all the while surveying the rest of the course. There are several more obstacles she has to go through, and each looked harder than the last

Madge feels like crying. The clock had already hit 7 minutes, and though she had gone in comfortable with the idea of not succeeding, the thought of failing felt like a punch in the gut now. She squeezes her eyes tightly as she tries desperately to think a way out of this course that would let her finish in time. For a District so opposed to the Hunger Games, they sure liked to make their obstacles rather similar to them. Then again, considering who they were fighting a war against, the decision made sense.

As she desperately thinks, she adjusts her grip on the rough rope a little, which makes the rope sway a little. She looks up and sees that the rope was lopped through a pulley on the ceiling.

_The ceiling!_

Immediately, Madge begins climbing the rope as quickly as she can, until she reaches the very top. With bated breath, she pushes the ceiling tile to the right of the pulley.

It doesn’t budge.

She repeats the action with the left tile only to get the same result. Refusing to give up, Madge leans over and pushes on the tile in front of the pulley, and nearly squeals in glee when it moves.

Thank you, Gale Hawthorne!

She grabs onto the rope with both hands again, and starts swinging as forcefully as she can. Once she’s gained enough momentum, on the forward swing, she lunges her legs upwards, and kicks the tile completely out.

She repeats the action, except instead of kicking the tile, she swings her legs in, and awkwardly pushes herself into the service tunnel. Muscles beginning to tire, Madge sprints down the tunnel until she reaches by her approximation where the room below her ends.

Now she had to find a tile that would let her out….

She pulls on the tiles frantically, movements jerky as her anxiety mounts, since she no longer knows how much time she has left. Finally, one of the tiles budge, and to her sweet relief, she finds that she’s almost directly above the lever.

Without wasting another moment, Madge jumps down, and lands roughly on top of the large foam box, nearly toppling it over. She trips over her own two feet the first time she stands up, but she immediately pushes herself up, and flings herself at the lever, pulling it down as if it controlled the gates of heaven itself.

_Beep!_

Madge looks up at the clock.

_8:29_

She had made it-with almost a minute and a half to spare!

_“Congratulations Cadet,_ ” the PA voice says, almost uncertainly. _“The exit is right behind you._ ”

Madge looks over at the hole in the ceiling, and the tile she had savagely kicked down. “Would you like me to put the tiles back in?”

_“No. Please exit.”_

Madge takes the clue, and carefully lowers herself from the box she stands on. Sure enough, the door is right behind it.

She hadn’t even realized how dark the obstacle course was until she was in the new training room. It’s filled with mostly heavy equipment, and there’s a large mat in the middle of the room.

 As her eyes blinked to readjust to the new lighting, she finds the CG scattered, and a bunch of huge, muscly guys staring at her.

“About time, princess,” Gale says as a way of greeting, pulling her from her nervous observation.

“Thanks, I-Oh my God,” Madge squeaks when she finally looks at Gale. He’s taken off his shirt, and is clad in just a white, sleeveless undershirt, but next to all his fellow soldiers, does Madge finally realize just how muscular Gale is.

And she has to _fight_ him

“What?” Gale asks, eyebrows furrowing. Madge is saved from answering by the sudden arrival of Leah and Bella.

“Hey girl,” Bella greets, punching her arm in what Madge assumes is supposed to be a friendly gesture, but hurts regardless.

“How’d it go?” Leah queries, punching her other arm, leaving both appendages rather sore.

“Good,” Madge answers genuinely. “I finished with about a minute and a half left on the clock.”

“How much time did you have to complete it in?” Gale asks, annoyed that Leah and Bella cut into their previous conversation.

“10 minutes,” Bella answers for her. “You did great, girl.”

“Yeah,” Leah agrees enthusiastically. “I got eight 23, and Bella 8 27, so you’re just about up there with us!”

Madge chances a glance at Gale, and bursts with pride at the impressed look on his face.

“You’re up first,” Bella informs her, even though Madge already knows this. “Against some fella named Hawthorne.”

“Reporting for duty,” Gale answers dully, rolling his eyes. Immediately, Bella and Leah’s easy-going expressions become hard.

“Isn’t that kinda unfair?” Leah asks tensely, crossing her arms. Next to her, Bella mirrors her actions.

“How is what unfair?” Madge asks confusedly.

“I know you two aren’t technically dating, but he’ll still go easy on you,” Bella elaborates with a glare directed towards Gale, which he returns just as easily.

“What the hell are you two blabbering about?” Gale snaps, and Madge wishes she could just explode into a ball of dust, gone forever- she finally understood Bella’s insinuation.

“When you said _benefits_ , I thought you meant in a _platonic_ way,” Madge explains frantically, knowing her face is as red as a tomato in that moment. “Because that’s what we are. _Friends_.”

“What are you three talking about?” Gale asks petulantly, clearly done with being out of their loop.

Bella and Leah share a knowing look that leaves Madge uncomfortable.

“Nothing,” Bella says coyly, shaking her head.

“Just a misunderstanding,” Leah adds, winking at Madge.

Gale opens his mouth, no doubt to insist in knowing what they’re referring to, but Bella cuts him off.

“Love the hair, by the way,” she says coyly, reaching over to lightly pull on a curl.

“Don’t remind me,” Madge groans, trying to pat down the frizzy, poofy mess her hair is.

“I like it!” Leah giggles, also reaching over to play with it.

“Hawthorne, Undersee!” a short man Madge doesn’t recognize calls. “You’re up.”

_“You’ve come this far, you’ve done so well_ ,” Madge tells herself. _“You can do this too. It doesn’t matter that it’s Gale- you have to believe in yourself.”_

They’re lead to the middle mat, and everyone in the room gathers to watch, only adding to Madge’s anxiety.

“The fight will go on for only ten minutes,” their instructor explains. “The rules are simple: a hit earns a point; a block earns a point. At the end of the ten minutes, whoever has the most points, wins.”

“ _However_ ,” the instructor stresses. “If, at any point, your opponent is able to pin you for at least 10 seconds, they win by default, regardless of who has how many points. Is that clear?”

Both Madge and Gale nod.

“Alright,” the instructor nods back. “Take your places.”

They walk to opposite ends of the mat to face each other, and Madge irrationally wishes that Gale would put his shirt back on, if only to keep everything even between them. She pulls off the pony from her wrist and ties her fluffy hair into a bun. Tradition be dammed, she’s been warned enough times of how easily loose hair can immobilize you.

“On my mark,” the instructor calls. “Go!”

Gale doesn’t budge. Just stands casually, waiting for her to strike. Even though she knows this is exactly the response he’s hoping to elicit from her, Madge is angry. He could at least _pretend_ he was taking her seriously!

Figuring she might as well take advantage of his lack of defensive stance, Madge rushes towards him and lifts her leg to deliver a swift roundhouse kick, aimed right at his pig head.

To her shock, her calf lands solidly against his temple, and Gale staggers a bit, before righting, finally lifting his hands in a somewhat defense position.

“Point, Undersee!”

So that was his ploy: let her rack up some points to salvage her ego in front her peers, and then take her down once he’s had enough.

It is _so_ on.

If that was the game he was going to play, Madge would play right along.

She immediately launches into a flurry of punches, raking up points, while being mindful to keep the power behind them minimal, and to always leap back to a safe distance lest he reaches his limit and is ready to grab her.

The goal is to make sure she’s never in his range for too long, and drag the fight on for as long as she can, so Gale can’t get his chance to pin her.

Unfortunately, the audience is interfering with her game plan.

“Come on Hawthorne!” one of them yells. “Gonna let a girl beat you up?”

_“Shut up!_ ” Madge wants to hiss, but she’s too focused on Gale. Since the fight started, she hasn’t taken her eyes off of him, and vice versa.

Since he’s figured out her several punch attack patterns, and has even begun blocking them from when he was heckled, Madge decides to change things up, and goes to kick him again.

Her mistake.

Almost as if its rehearsed. He grabs her ankle, nearly toppling Madge over. He flashes her a wolfish grin before tugging on her leg, which _does_ make her fall, and she rolls away just seconds from when he was going to pounce on her.

Still on the ground, Madge manages to kick his ribs before quickly scampering up.

“Point, Undersee!”

Beginning to grow badly out of breath, Madge has just made it to her feet, and turns around, only to collided solidly by Gale.

The impact knocks the breath out of her lungs, and he’s easily able to pin her beneath him.

He has her arms pinned to the ground beside her, and his legs locked tightly around hers. But what really makes her heart race is how close he is to her. He’s panting too, but she can hardly notice the hot air on her face, not when his eyes are so close to her’s, that she can see his pupil is encircled by a circle of empyrean white.

“4,5,6!” 

The voice of the instructor counting down her precious time is what snaps her out of her haze, and she arches her body up desperately, which only pushes her body into Gale’s into the most inappropriate of ways. But Madge is so frantic, that she can’t even process that her breasts are pushing into his chest, and that their hips are practically glued together. She needs to get him off, and she needs to get him off _now_. 

Suddenly, Madge remembers Vox’s voice detailing a maneuver on how to get out of a pinned mount. 

She slides her left arm up, towards her right one, and with Gale still holding onto her firmly, his arm is also moved up, throwing his center of gravity off. Without hesitating for a second, she places her feet on either side of his ankles, and pushes with all strength up from the right side of her body.

To her absolute exhilaration, Gale actually tips over, and she uses the fact that he hasn’t let go of her wrists to allow herself to fall onto his chest. Knowing there’s no way she can keep him pinned down for long enough, she does what she has to do in order to win: she smashes her forehead on his still healing nose.

Immediately, Gale lets go of her wrists, to bring his hands up to his face, cursing loudly. Madge leaps away from him and scampers to the other end of the arena.

Madge feels like the worst person in the world as she watches Gale hunch over on his knees, as blood drips out from in between his fingers, and nearly asks for a forfeit, when Gale shakily makes his way to his feet.

His eyes are dark, and his blood is a deep crimson when he charges towards her, and Madge is so thrown off by his intensity, that she can only stand and stare as he pummels towards her.

His arms come around her, and for some reason, he cradles her head as they tip backwards, but then she’s on the ground, and Gale has her completely immobilized. Every inch of her body is pressed against his, and she can actually feel his drumming heartbeat from his breast bone, his breath wet against her ear, and his torso like a wall against hers.

“Time!” the instructor calls. “The winner is Undersee!”

Gale pulls back just enough so he can look at her, and to her shock, he’s grinning, almost manically.

“Congratulations,” he wishes her genuinely, as he slowly lifts himself off of her. For a moment, he just hovers over her, and Madge’s body recalls the way his felt pressed against hers, and now her stomach summersaults from both the thrill of victory, and a whole other kind of pleasure she’s never felt before-a hot, almost liquid one, that sparks from her lower belly, leaving her both boneless and dizzy with want.

The moment ends when the blood from his nose drips onto her cheek, which makes him get off her quickly and offer a hand up.

Her legs are trembling as she stands, and once she’s up, she finally faces the raptly watching audience. As she regains her bearings, she finally realizes that the CG are cheering for her excitedly, while all the boys look at her in both respect and sourness. In that moment, Madge feels like she’s seven feet tall and 10 pounds heavy.

She feels like a champion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another broken up chapter, due to length. This was a particularly fun chapter to write, and I hope it was fun to read :) 
> 
> I had actually been looking forward to writing this chapter for a long time now. Very soon, this fic will be picking up its pace in terms of action, so look forward to that!


	18. Ranking

Madge can’t help it, she glances at the door once more.

“Relax, girl,” Bella consoles, lightly nudging her shoulder. “He’ll come back.”

There aren’t many CG left that still need to complete the duel portion of the exam, so most of them sit scattered, in small clumps, as they await their results eagerly.

Madge, on her part, is just as anxious as everyone else present, but not for her result.

“He just left so quickly,” Madge worries, biting her lip. After they had finished fighting, Gale had murmured something about “needing a minute” before rushing out of the room, and all Madge could assume was that he had run off to deal with the pain she had inflicted upon him, privately. “And it’s been some time since then.”

“Well, you know, when things are _hard_ ,” Leah says mischievously. “You’ve got to take matters into your own _hands_.”

Bella giggles wildly at this, and even Heather, who had come over to sit with them, smirks as she pretends to ignore their conversation.

“Wha-“

Madge cuts herself off as Leah’s innuendo catches up to her. Madge had grown up without many friends, so she wasn’t in tune to the lingo her peers used, but Leah’s words were so thinly veiled, that even Madge, who admitted ignorance to pop-culture, saw through them.

“I _hurt_ him!” Madge nearly shouts, taking the twins by surprise with the intensity behind her words. “I was the one that broke his nose in the first place, and then, in a cheap move to secure my victory, I _hurt_ him!”

“It’s a fight,” Bella frowns, obviously not appreciating her tone. “That’s what happens. Calm down.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Madge snaps before she can stop herself. She blames her loose tongue on a combination of physical tiredness, anxiety, and guilt. “The end never justifies the means.”

The casual atmosphere evaporates as soon as she says this, and even Heather looks up at her sharply.

“What do you mean by that?” Leah asks slowly, suspiciously. Beside her, Bella nods, and Heather too now openly watches Madge.

What can she tell them? That the only home they’ve ever known is not the champion of democracy and individual freedom that they’ve been told since they were babes? That the war they’ve just enlisted in is to secure natural resources, not liberate the masses. With a sinking feeling, Madge realizes that she too had been blind sighted by the thrill of victory, and everything it promised, that she had forgotten what she had had to do to get there. For a moment, she too had indulged totally into that toxic _support our troops!_ mindset 13 so strongly upheld, though no one stopped to question what the troops were doing-and more importantly, _why_.

“Life in the districts,” Madge bows her head to make it look as if she’s reliving a painful flashback. Truthfully, she kind of is, but at the moment, she has to improvise so the girls don’t get on her back. “I was more fortunate than most, but the miners? No one cared what happened to them, as long as the coal quota was met.”

“We’re sorry,” Bella says earnestly, Leah nodding along with her. “That wasn’t very considerate of us. But we know things suck up there- that’s why we’re fighting. For a new Panem.”

Madge gives them a weak smile, but catches Heather’s eye over the twin’s shoulders.

She hadn’t bought Madge’s cover up, and she makes that clear by the narrowing of her eyes, and shaking her head once, almost imperceptibly.

Madge quickly darts her eyes away from the accusatory stare, and nearly melts in relief when she catches sight of Gale re-entering the room.

“I should go check up on him,” Madge says quickly as an excuse to leave the girls. “See you later.”

“Are you alright?” Madge immediately hounds him as soon as she’s near. “Does it hurt real bad? Oh, I’m so sorry Gale!”

“Hell’s teeth woman,” Gale rolls his eyes. “You’re acting like you whipped me.”

Madge frowns at his choice of reference, but goes on her tip toes to take his face in her hands so she can examine his nose more closely. It seems only slightly swollen, and the bleeding has stopped totally, and thankfully, she hasn’t messed up its alignment. Again.

“Princess,” Gale says exasperatedly, taking her hands in his and leading them to a corner where they can watch the last few matches. “This is what you’ve trained for, you can’t start feeling guilty now.”

“It was unethical,” Madge protests as she takes a seat by him on the floor against a wall. “I... exploited your trust in me.”

“How about you owe me one then, hm?” Gale suggests seriously, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow.

Madge is caught off guard- she hadn’t expected that from him.

“Alright,” she agrees with a small smile. “What do I owe you?”

“A favor,” Gale answers immediately with a cheeky smirk. “That I can cash in wherever I want, whenever I want.”

“I’d never break a deal with a Seam man,” Madge teases. She sticks out her hand and gives his a firm shake. “I don’t think this excuses my behavior still, but you have a deal.”

“When you retire from being a super spy, I think you should consider going into Early Education,” Gale snorts. “Sometimes you talk just like how the kindergarten teacher did.”

“I thought Mrs. Morosco was a wonderful lady!” Madge immediately defends the older woman with a laugh, but sobers quickly when she realizes that the kind, quick to laugh woman, had most probably not survived the bombs.

Gale must be thinking something similar, because neither of them say anything else as they watch the fights. When the last girl is pinned down for 10 seconds, Vox, who had arrived about 10 minutes ago, calls for their attention.

“Guess it’s time to find out,” Madge tries to say casually, but her voice betrays her nervousness.

“Your score doesn’t matter,” Gale says with a shake of his head. “You’re already doing more for the rebellion than any of these schmuks here.”

“Gale,” Madge scolds, because really, all these people are willing to die for the rebellion, but she feels lighter when she stands up anyways. She quickly makes her way to stand in line with the rest of the CG, and awaits the announcement of their scores.

“As you know, only the top five of you will be able to go into the field,” Vox booms. She stands rigidly before them, her arms crosses behind her back, dark eyes revealing nothing as she looks at all of them in the face. “If you rank below that, you will have an array of other civilian positions in the military you can choose from.”

_“Deep breaths Madge_ ,” Madge coaches herself as she stops her legs from bouncing in anxiety. _“This is the final stretch. The only failure is the failure to not try.”_

“In first rank,” Vox reads off her clipboard. “Leah Leeg.”

Madge glances over to shoot her a wide grin, but the blonde is staring straight at her captain, her face perfectly controlled: the spitting image of an ideal image.

Madge tries to mimic her stance.

“In second rank,” Vox continues. “Bella Leeg.”

How Madge had befriended the two most skilled twins within her very class was beyond her, but she felt second hand pride for them regardless.”

“In third rank, Anastasia Slepukora,” Anastasia was a tall brunette that Madge had practiced knife handling with once, she was happy that the girl had gotten the spot.

“In fourth rank,” Vox paused before reading. “Margaret Undersee.”

Margaret- _wait_. That was her! She had ranked in fourth place?! She vaguely hears out Heather’s name being called out next, and a series of further instructions, but Madge can hardly pay any attention to that.

She was a soldier. She was going to actually fight in the war. She was going to kill with her own two hands. She was going to have to follow Coin’s commands. She was going to help bring down the Capitol.

The five girls must have been asked to come forward and go to a new location, and Madge follows them in almost a haze. She’s able to catch Gale’s eye before she leaves, and he just gives her a nod, probably understanding the turbulence of emotions she was feeling in that moment.

They end up in a shooting range. Only soldiers are issued firearms, so is the first time she’s been here. A muscular woman with the emblematic military bun appears before them. Her face is middle-aged, but her body is honestly in better shape than Madge’s, even though she’s completed weeks of boot camp.

“My name is Lieutenant Jackson,” she greets the five girls. Her voice is not soft, but it’s not unkind either. Just like her face. “I will be your new commanding officer. From this moment one, any one of you can be sent out to the frontlines per my discretion. Until then, you will receive special training from me, such as gun use and tactical follow through. The days of playtime and giggles are over ladies. We have a war to fight, and I don’t intend on losing. Is that clear?”

“Yes Lieutenant,” they chorus, making Madge feel as if she’s a robot in an assembly line, not really a person.

She’s issued a gun, and her security badge’s security clearance is updated from a 1 to a 4, and that’s that. She was a soldier.

As she traced the cool metal of _her_ gun with a finger, Madge made a decision right then and there. She would fight in the war to overthrow the Capitol, but she wouldn’t stop fighting, in whatever way, until she knew Panem’s future was secured.

* * *

 

“Turns out I’m a lot better with a gun than I am a bow,” Madge tells Gale once she meets up with him again.

They were on their way to meet up with Katniss. Apparently, Heavensbee had given her a day off from shooting, but not one from planning. To be honest, it made Madge feel almost smug that it was just expected that Gale and her would be present during the meeting.

“What a relief,” Gale says over dramatically in obvious sarcasm. “Maybe you’ll be able to land a shot on a peacekeeper, instead of shooting your own foot with an arrow.”

“I was _not_ that bad!” Madge exclaims, though she has to bite down her lip to keep from smiling. She was exactly that bad.

“Madge!” Bristel’s urgent voice breaks apart their repartee. Madge turns quickly to find a frantic Bristel running towards her.

“Thank God,” Bristel manages to heave as she gulps in large breaths of air. “I f-found you.”

“What’s wrong?” Madge asks tensely, a million different scenarios running through her mind, each worse than the last.

“I passed my exam, 30 minutes quicker than everyone else, by the way,” Bristel says smugly once she’s regulated her breathing enough.

“That was the big news?” Gale snaps, glaring at Bristel.

“Obviously not,” Bristel brushes him off with an eye roll. Becoming serious once more, she stares at Madge in concern. “I went to Herst’s lab, seemed he was able to generate enough brain cells to get me a job. Once of the first things I did when I was there was search up all our names. Madge, when you first arrived to 13, you were under surveillance constantly.”

“ _What?”_ Madge gaps, bringing a hand to rest against her suddenly racing heart.

Bristel nods in affirmation. “You were being watched, but it said in your case file that you were quickly deemed a non-threat, and haven’t been surveilled since then.”

“Why was she being watched in the first place?” Gale demands, glancing over his shoulder suspiciously. Madge doesn’t blame him, she herself feels as if there are a million hidden eyes watching her every move.

“My Father,” Madge croaks before Bristel can speak. “I was the Mayor’s daughter, they needed to know if I still had any affiliation to the Capitol.”

Gale looks down almost shamefully. He had once affiliated her with the Capitol too.

“I just wanted you to know,” Bristel tells her kindly. “It seemed like something that you should have known about immediately.”

“Thank you,” Madge says sincerely, stepping forward to pull the willowy girl into a hug.

“I should probably head back,” Bristel says once they’re separated. “I don’t wanna be the chick that got fired on her first day.”

“Thank you Bristel,” Madge repeats to her departing friend. “And congratulations!”

“Hell’s teeth,” Gale mutters, as they continue walking. “It’s like this place is more fucked up by the day.”

Madge says nothing, and thinks about what Bristel had just told her. Practically her first month in 13 had been spent curled up alone in her room, wishing she was dead. It was strange to think, but her depression had saved her. If she had been out and about, she might have been caught in her espionage, and who knew what would have been the punishment for that?

“Everything happens for a reason,” Madge says aloud. “Fate…makes everything work out. We’ll be ok.”

Gale looks at her curiously, no doubt wondering where her suddenly philosophy lecture came from, but doesn’t say anything.

They finally reach the designated room, and Madge’s pupils enlarge to adjust to the sudden darkness of the room, illuminated only in the blue-gray light that leaks out of the large screens.

“Gale, Madge,” Katniss looks up from her spot at a circular table that sits in the middle of the room, and jumps up to greet them.

“Catnip,” Gale greets back. Madge just gives her a smile, before looking over at who else sat at the table.

The glass-colored eyes of Coin stared back at her. There sat the woman in whose hands the fate of the rebellion sat. There sat the woman who had let her parents die.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she says warmly, as she rises from her chair. “A friend of Katniss, is a friend of mine.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, President Coin,” Madge says diplomatically, plastering the sweetest smile she can manage on her face.

Coin’s smile widens, but it doesn’t make it look any more genuine. If anything, Madge is now hyperaware of how her eyes cut through her, as if they’re trying to dissect the membranes of her flesh to sink into her thoughts. The woman reminded her more of a reptile than human: cool and smooth, but poised and ready to bite.

“Please, let’s all take our seats,” Heavesnbee says to the room. “And hear what Haymitch has to offer.”

Haymitch nods his head at her once as she settles on the left of Katniss, Gale on her right.

“Has anyone here,” Haymitch begins. “Had the pleasure of watching any of the videos Katniss has shot so far?”

Everyone at the table, sans Katniss, raises their hand. Poor Katniss looks like she wants to melt into the flooring.

“So I don’t need to explain why it’s all a bunch of bullshit,” Haymitch grunts.

“Haymitch!” a woman who’s voice is familiar, but otherwise unrecognizable to Madge gasps. “ _Language_.”

“Effie,” Heavesnbee chuckles. “Don’t interrupt the creative process.”

_Effie?_ As in Effie _Trinket_? My word, could make up alter your appearance.

“That’s because it’s not authentic,” Haymitch explains, pacing in front of the table. “She can’t be the girl on fire when there’s no spark.”

“What are you suggesting then, Mr. Abernathy?” Coin asks coolly, her eyes carefully tracking his every movement.

“If I may, Madame President,” Madge knows him well enough to recognize the hint of sarcasm. “When was it that Katniss had done something that had truly moved you?”

Coin doesn’t answer, but Effie gladly does. “Oh, oh! When she volunteered for her sister, Primrose.”

“When she sang to Rue,” Heavensbee adds with a nod. Madge reaches over to clasp Katniss’s hand underneath the table. Hearing all this must be making her relive these moments, which can’t be easy. Katniss squeezes her hand back, and Madge purses her lips to stop her smile.

“When she comforted the morphling in her final moments,” Madge answers quietly. She still remembers the moment, the clear blue waters, the brilliant red’s and blues of the sunset, and Katniss and Peeta gently holding the dying morphling’s body in the rocking waves. Perhaps it’s because her own Mother had been a morphling, but to Madge, that was one of Katniss’s most kindest, most humane moment within the entire Quell.

“Exactly,” Haymitch says gruffly. “You need to film the girl’s natural reactions, not watch her make a fool of herself trying to read a script.”

Heavensbee swivels his chair so he’s directly facing Coin. “We could send her to 12.”

“Yes,” Katniss speaks up for the first time during the meeting. “I want to go.”

“I will not be sending an untrained civilian out-“

“I was an untrained civilian when I won the games,” Katniss interrupts, and Madge see’s her, the girl on fire. “I want Peeta, and Panem, to know that 12 isn’t gone, not completely.”

“I’m in,” Gale volunteers, almost carelessly.

Madge doesn’t even have to think about it. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A blugh chapter in my opinion, but its lateness and lack of quality is probably bc a lot of angsty things happened to me irl that had me in a pretty bad depressive episode. Anyways, that stuff has mostly passed, so I hope that the next chapter has things kicking again. Thank you so much for sticking with me, I love you all, truly.


	19. Sum of a Heart

Madge is annoyed.

Normally, she was too patient of a person to be sequestered by such feelings of irritation, but there were several factors that just built off of each other, that lead her in such a sour mood.

The first was Mr. Abernathy. Yesterday, at the end of the high-profile meeting Madge had somehow managed to squeeze herself into, he had proposed a new spin for the propos.

“Team 12,” Mr. Abernathy had proposed. “While Katniss is the central focus, Madge and Hawthorne can be written in her comrade in arms, add some narrative to the story, make it juicier. They have a good contrast going, Madge and Katniss do, fiery and hot, and sweet and soft.”

“Not bad,” Plutarch had commented thoughtfully. “And Gale?”

“He can be the guy,” Mr. Abernathy had waved off gruffly.

She had been outraged that he had made such a large decision without even consulting or asking for her opinion on the matter. She knew that the only reason he had concocted the idea was that it would mean higher security-more protection for Madge, yet the last thing Madge had wanted was to be featured in the propos in _any_ way, stumbling around like a foolish girl while the Mockingjay made history. She held her tongue for only two reasons. The first: arguing with Mr. Abernathy would have weakened his position in Coin’s eyes, and two: she wanted to appear in front of Coin as docile and mindless, eager to please and ready to accept whatever order was dished out to her. She had been around enough high-ranking Capitol officials to know that’s exactly how you rise the ramps.

Thus, why she sat in the air-bay, having her face assaulted by Katniss’s old make up team, in too-tight clothes and slightly large boots, watching Effie Trinket flirt endlessly with Gale.

That was the second reason she was annoyed. Here she was having her eyebrows publically tweezed, and Effie was fawning over Gale as if he was the next coming of Finnick Odair himself, never mind she was old enough to be his Mother. It was a matter of decency, not jealousy that she was annoyed. Truly.

“Thereeeee you go!” the green-skinned woman, Octavia, declares with pride. “Have a look yourself.”

Almost fearfully, Madge takes the outstretched mirror. Madge knows she is not beautiful, not with her too thin eyebrows, her too big eyes, too small nose, and crocked bottom teeth, and though they’re professionals, she’s worried that they will have only enhanced her flaws.

Peering into the small handheld mirror, she sees that her skin has been rendered flawless with foundation, some blush brushed on to make sure she doesn’t look like a colorless corpse, and some brown powder has been blended into her eyebrows so that their arch is actually visible on her forehead. It’s obvious though where most of the makeup is concentrated: under her eyes, concealing the purple shadows that had marred them earlier. Her sleep last night had been fitful, although not for the usual reasons. Their room humidifier had stopped working, and Posy had kept waking Madge up to “blow cold air” onto her face, so she could breathe easier.

Madge loved the girl to death, but she was certainly high maintenance.

She hands the mirror back to Octavia, and Gale looks over Effie’s shoulder to see her finished face.

“Looks the same,” he remarks with a slight frown. Madge just sighs and looks away, it’s no surprise to her that Gale saw no improvement in her beauty; she was, after all, no Katniss, who’s consuming beauty burned in your mind long after she was gone. Madge had accepted long ago she was a plain-faced girl, the kind you don’t notice when you walk down the street and pass her, but Madge was ok with that fact, really, she was. If she had attracted attention when she was younger, she would have never dipped her toe into the dark waters of espionage.

As she scans the place, trying desperately to block out Effie’s cooing, a frantic wave catches her eye.

Looking over, she finds Thom, trying covertly to catch her eye. He’s standing in front of a middle-aged man with a more than impressive moustache, who seems to be reading something off his tablet. If the look of desperation on Thom’s face is a clue, it must be dreadfully boring.

“Thom!” Madge calls, waving him over. Both Thom, and who Madge assumes is his instructor look over. Madge points over to where Katniss stands a little away, speaking with her old team, and then to Thom, gesturing frantically for him to come over. Even at a distance, Madge can see his commander’s eyes grow larger than his mustache, and in the next moment, Thom comes bounding over, pulling her into a sweeping hug.

“Oh, _thank_ you Madgey!” Thom fake weeps. “I was honestly about to kill myself if I had to listen to one more word read by that old fart. You saved me.”

Before Madge can reply, Thom is roughly pulled away from her, revealing Gale’s fist clenching his collar.

“Cartwright ok with you hugging other girls?” Gale snaps, shoving Thom away.

Thom easily regains his balance, and brushes off his shoulder as if there’s dirt on it. “Thought I smelled something rancid. It was just Gale’s insecurities.”

“Or your breath."

Madge ignores their ribbing, instead mentally willing Effie _not_ to follow Gale over. Of course, that doesn't work.

“Well, aren’t you all such a lovely lot!” Effie exclaims, barely remembering to look at Madge as she now openly appraisses Thom. “I almost wish I didn’t have to leave!”

The woman was a cougar!

“Too bad you do,” Madge says sweetly, nearly sighing in relief when the older woman finally tears herself away from them, having been called over by a 13 worker.

“I’m gonna go talk to Katniss, see if we’re ready to leave,” Gale tells them both, gently tapping her on the shoulder as he walks past her.

Madge is about to ask Thom how is training is going, but is cut off by the arrival of Bristel.

“Hey you two,” Bristel greets casually. “Whoa,” she says, once she gets a sight of Madge’s face. “What’s going on with that?”

“Trying to make me look like an actual woman,” Madge jokes. Without warning, Bristel reaches over and swipes her thumb across her lower lip, and then applies the stolen gloss on her own lips.

“There,” she declares mischievously. “Now we both look better.”

“Wait a second,” Thom interrupts, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Since when were you into this girly crap? There isn’t a guy you’re into at your new work-is there?”

“There isn’t,” Bristel answers coolly. “And even if there was, what business of yours is that?”

“Listen here young lady!” Thom says angrily. “I am your Uncle, and therefore it is my responsibility to look after you.”

“You’re _younger_ than me, you dingus,” Bristel snaps.

“Bryne!” Mr. Mustache was apparently finished being lenient with Thom.

“This isn’t over,” Thom says darkly, before rushing back to his instructor.

“Idiot,” Bristel says under her breath. Shaking her head, she turns to face Madge fully. “Anyways, the reason I came down here was to give you this.”

In palm is a small red button with a few loose wires.

“Herst made it for you,” she explains, gently lifting her wrist that houses her new communicuff up. “Once I install it, when you press that button, it’ll send an emergency alert to only Al. What he’ll do then I have no idea, but he said to tell you he’s still working on a more sophisticated system.”

“Wow,” Madge breaths, genuinely touched as Bristel installs the red alert, as Madge has already dubbed in her mind. “Tell him I said thanks, this is really nice of both of you.”

“Sure thing,” Bristel says, almost sarcastically, which makes Madge frown in confusion. “The guy is like, obsessed with you. He’ll probably piss his pants when I tell him.”

“He’s not obsessed,” Madge dismisses easily. “He probably just talks about me because I’m the only topic of interest you both are familiar with.”

Bristel pauses in her tinkering to mull over her words. “Huh, didn’t think of it like that. I already told him you liked Gale though, and that was _hilarious_. Did you know he thought you two were siblings? Idiot.”

 _“What?”_ Madge nearly screeches, yanking her wrist back. “H-how, who told you that?”

“Oh, please Madge,” Bristel says with an eye roll, taking back her wrist. “Photographic memory, remember? Every lungful gaze, every embarrassed blush, every charged encounter, it’s all catalogued up here.”

Madge is too embarrassed to say anything, and just looks down at her combat boots.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” Bristel says, almost awkwardly. “I won’t tell anyone else. Besides, you two are cute. And the whole “I hate you but secretly love you” cliché is just so fun to watch.”

“Can we please not talk about this?” Madge squeaks, shutting her eyes tightly. Her crush on Gale was something she had wanted to take with her to the grave, and now she has to completely reevaluate how she acts around him, lest more people catch on. With a sinking feeling, she wonders just how many observational people have already concluded her feelings for him? She wasn’t that transparent, was she?

“Stop freaking out,” Bristel chides. “Gale is an idiot-frankly I don’t see what you see in him, but trust me when I say he has no idea you like him. Pretty sure he’d lose the ability to speak if he knew.”

“Yeah right,” Madge says, unable to stop the bitterness from leaking in. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve known from the start that Gale belongs to Katniss, it’s just a stupid crush.”

Bristel has finished installing the button, and let’s her hand fall without ceremony, looking contrite as she probably realizes how upset Madge actually is.

“People aren’t property, they can’t belong to someone,” Bristel says softly. “And you know what I’ve learned from my studies? The universe is made up of numbers, and they’re all specific-it’s all organized chaos. Every freaking thing happens for a reason. So just let the stars align, or whatever the saying is.”

Madge doesn’t have time to formulate an answer, before she hears Gale, calling her to board the hovercraft.

“Stay safe,” Bristel says to her as way of goodbye, giving her a quick hug before disappearing into the rush of all the airmen and women.

Gale has to call for her over again. Madge slowly makes her way to the hovercraft, still jarred by what her shiny haired friend had just said to her.

She pauses before entering the craft. The first time she had gone into a hovercraft, she had been carried in, and the rest of the ride had been spent in a drug-induced haze. Now though, she was hyperaware of everything, including how easily she could die in here.

Taking a deep breath, she climbs in, and takes a seat across from Katniss and Gale. The rest of the seats are filled in by the Camera Crew, and soon it’s time to take off. Madge hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until they were finally in the air, stabilized.

Despite her tenseness, the atmosphere in the hovercraft is light as the camera crew introduces themselves. Madge particularly likes Cressida; her story of escaping the Capitol reminds her of Al, and it’s reassuring to know that there are truly good people in even the most evil of places.

Soon enough the passengers quiet down, and Madge is left to her thoughts and suffocating seatbelt. It’s obvious that the designer had never once touched a pair of breasts, otherwise they would have had better designs.

Unable to look out the window without feeling like throwing up, Madge just closes her eyes, and tries to collect her thoughts. She’s told herself sternly that she isn’t allowed to think of the actual trip to 12 at all until she’s there. She figures it’s better to have one long breakdown, than several, broken up ones. Still, she can’t help but think how the last time she had been in an hovercraft, it was as an escaping refugee from 12. Now she was returning to 12 on one, as a certified combat soldier. She couldn’t help but feel slightly proud of herself. She was no longer useless, she had made sure of that.

“What’s wrong?”

Madge’s eyes open to see Gale with his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his face, and Katniss gripping his shoulder as she stared worriedly at him.

Gale removes his hands and reveals his grim face. “Nothing. Just can’t wait to return to the site of my greatest failure.”

“Greatest failure?” Katniss echoes, not understanding what he’s saying. Madge is just as confused.

“I couldn’t get everyone out in time,” Gale explains to his knees. “I failed them. I let them die.”

“I guess I failed them too, then,” Madge tells him. His eyes immediately snap up to hers. “I was right alongside you that night, and I didn’t warn anyone myself. So, by your logic, I’m just as guilty.”

“It’s different for you,” Gale says frusturaedly. “I could have saved them, I just…”

“And I couldn’t?” Madge retaliates, but not mean-spiritedly. “Gale, that was what I was thinking myself that night. I felt awful that we couldn’t warn any Merchants, but I knew if we tried, we’d all just die.”

“Madge is right,” Katniss says firmly. “You’re a hero to so many people Gale, not a failure.”

“And it wasn’t your responsibility,” Madge adds softly. “There’s only one person responsible for what happened.”

Madge doesn’t have to say the name. Everyone knows. The rest of the ride is silent, though Gale’s face is contemplative. Several times, Madge feels his gaze on her, but she keeps her eyes closed, trying to build up her mental walls so she doesn’t completely break once they’re in 12.

Madge feels the gentle bump of the hovercraft landing, and then the latch lowers, momentarily blinding her with the bright 12 sunlight pouring in.

She unbuckles herself with trembling fingers, and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as she slowly walks down the ramp.

And there it is. District 12, or what is left of it.

Rain and sun exposure has lightened the ashes, dulling it to the idiosyncratic gray half the District’s eyes were once shaded. The few buildings that still remain upright are crumbling, and left with so many holes that Madge can make out the mockingly blue skies.

Her throat tightens as a sudden wind picks up, unsettling the ashes around them. She had once hated the coal dust that had clung to 12, but now, Madge wishes nothing more for the familiar grit to be invading her lungs, instead of the cinders of once living people.

A choking noise pulls her attention away from the mournful ruins. Katniss is biting her first, trying desperately to hold back sobs that threaten to overtake her. Gale is beside her, his arm around her shoulders, though his face is cast down-as if he can’t bear to look up.

Madge is the first to step forward. Her chest feels a bit constricted, but for some reason, she feels detached, as if she’s not stepping on human remains, but a floating bystander in a foreign nightmare.

She could make out the sounds of the camera crew trying to work as quietly and unobtrusively as she could, and the sparse words Katniss and Gale would occasionally share, but Madge didn’t really pay any attention to all that. Her feet were leading her to the place where nearly her entire heart was burned down.

It’s a strange phenomenon, but the bombed buildings look almost…tortured. As if they too had souls, that had seen and felt too many terrible things in one night.

Memories past rose into her mind as she passed nearly unrecognizable landmarks, and small silver spots danced in her vision as the fact that the childhood she had, the place where she had grown up-her _home_ was destroyed, and could never be brought back, was realized by her once more.

Her feet finally stop when she reaches the bend that’s right around the Mayor’s home. She just has to walk a few more steps and she’ll be able to see the unmarked grave of her Mother and Father.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” Katniss’s voice drifts softly into her ear. Madge can barely make herself nod-she feels totally detached from her body.

Forcing herself to move forward, Madge can finally see the hill where her house had once stood.

As the grief, fear, and anger mount within her, her soul nearly fractures from her mind under the sheer weight of it the boiling emotions. Yet still, no tears escape her eyes. Has she grown so numb to suffering, that her body as forgotten how to grieve?

Somehow, she’s able to go closer, until she’s at the very top of the hill, standing in what once used to be her yard.

Katniss and Gale are behind her, she knows, but at that moment, it’s just Madge, and the desecrated ashes of parents.

“My father was a good man,” Madge whispers in a nearly strangled voice. She needs to voice her thoughts, or her mind will explode from trying to keep everything in. “He always taught me to be good to everyone, even if they had wronged me. He would tell me to forgive. To protect those who were vulnerable.”

“He was deeply hurt by the world,” Madge continues, unaware of the hot tears trekking down the slopes of her cheeks. “He believed, until the very end, that man truly is born good. That it’s our greed for more that corrupts us. He used to say, ‘We all have our failings. That is why we must work together, so that my good can mask your bad, and vice versa.’.”

“No one knew how much he cared!” Madge cries out, falling to her knees, nearly choking on the sudden excess spit in her mouth. Immediately Katniss falls down next to her, and pulls her in closely against her. “How much he truly loved this District…he died for us! He’s gone! My Dad is gone, and I’ll never get to see him again, ever!”

For a while, Madge just sobs loudly in Katniss’s arms, as she recalls every last memory she has of her Father. His long legs, his balding head, his warm eyes. Madge thinks back to how his stomach would bulge after dinner, how his laughs always started off loud before quieting, how he always kissed her right temple. The smell of his cologne. The feel of the hair on his knuckles. The shine of his shoes. Her Father, the person she had loved most in this world, snatched from her fingers in a storm of fire and smoke.

“I-I can’t even say anything about my Mother,” Madge chokes out, rubbing at her face furiously. “That bitch! She chose goddamn morphling over her own daughter!”

“I know Madge,” Katniss whispers soothingly. “Just let it all out. I’m here. I’ll listen.”

But Madge can’t speak. A few meters from her is where her Mother had been obliterated, and Madge had just called her a bitch. She's overcome by such a sudden wave of self-hatred, that nearly takes the gun from her holster, and shoots herself in the head.

“No,” Madge moans, gagging as vomit tries to come up. Her fingers itch to clasp the gun. “She wasn’t a bitch. I’m a bitch. She just loved too much. She loved too much, and love destroyed her. “Because Madge certainly feels like love is destroying her right now.

“Madge,” Katniss’s voice is firm when she calls her name, and that’s why she looks up. Her gray eyes are red-rimmed, but besides that, there is a soft courage that still clings to her features. “You are one of the kindest, bravest, and honest souls I have ever met. Your Father’s vision for peace, and your Mother’s unrelenting love is so transparent within you. You embody the best of them.”

For a moment, all Madge can do is look at Katniss. Her friend, the Mockingjay.

She lurches forward and grabs onto Katniss tightly, fearing that if she lets go, she’ll blow away alongside the dust. Katniss holds her back just as tightly, and even rocks her, as if Madge is her infant, calling out for her Mother in the night.

Slowly, Madge’s tears begin the run out, and she’s no longer wailing as if her heart has just been physically torn from her chest. But her entire body is still shaking, and she’s certain that she doesn’t even have the energy to stand up.

_“Black clouds are behind me, I now can see ahead.”_

Madge stops shaking for a moment, shocked to feel Katniss’s chest reverberates as her sweet singing fills the void.

 _“Often I wonder why I try, hoping for an end_.” Madge recognizes the tune-it’s an old 12 folk song.

 _“But I know the present will not last, and tomorrow will be kinder,”_ Katniss continues to sing, and Madge closes her eyes to let her words soak into her skin, down deep past her bones and veins.

_“Sorrow weighs my shoulders down, and trouble haunts my mind. But I know the present will not last, and tomorrow will be kinder.”_

Slowly, the spirit of 12 flows back into Madge’s blood. This would not be the end of District 12. She would fight in the war, and if she, and everyone else fails, the next generation will pick up arms, fighting until they’ve reclaimed the humanity so grossly stolen from them all.

Katniss finishes her song, and Madge pulls back just enough to press a kiss to her cheek. Katniss gives her a small smile back.

She finally removes her arms from around her neck, and tries to stand up, only to nearly topple onto a still seated Katniss.

“Easy,” Gale says, pulling her up gently. Madge looks at him, and is stunned to see tear tracks painted down his handsome face.

“You were crying?” Madge doesn’t mean to ask aloud, but she’s still rattled from…everything.

Gale just nods, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t.

After Madge gives one more goodbye to her parents, they finally climb down the lonesome hill.

There aren’t any more emotional outbursts during the rest of the trip, though Madge does ask if they can stop by the old Sweet Shop.

Donner Sweet’s was passed along down the Donner family since before the Dark Days, which meant there were several family mementos in the store. While Madge didn’t have the heart to be digging through her parent’s graves, it was easier on her conscious to look through what once stood as the Sweet Store.

She had been hoping to find a picture of her Grandpa and her when she was a little girl, but with great sadness, she could not find it. Just as she was about to give up on looking, her hand had brushed against something smooth.

Quickly brushing the dust away, Madge had uncovered a ceramic plate, miraculously intact, a hand painted songbird, one that existed long before the Capitol, staring back at her. It had been a  part of a set of four, each plate with a different painting. Madge remembers their place on a shelf behind the counter, their vibrant colors matching the candies below them. Now, it was the only link Madge had to her ancestory.

So that’s why she sat by the lake, where they had unanimously decided would be a much nicer spot to sit and wait for the hovercraft, her finger tracing the designs of the plate, over and over again.

“Hey,” Gale greets quietly, plopping down next to her. His hair is still dripping from the quick dip he just had in the lake. Katniss sits a little ways over, ‘talking’ with Pollux, as the rest of the crew lounges around.

“Hey,” Madge returns, voice still raw from all her crying.

“You ok?” he asks, looking at the sky, and then her.

Madge shrugs. While she isn’t in the middle of an emotional breakdown anymore, things are still a little raw.

“I’m sorry,” Gale apologizes her, both his words and gray eyes sincere as they watch her closely. “Really I am, about your parents. I wish there was a way I could take all your pain, and kill it.”

Madge can’t help but smile at that. “Thank you.”

“I just…” Gale trails off, looking off into the distance, almost uncertainly. “Ma and the kids, _especially_ Posy, they love you.”

Madge blinks. Where had that come from? “I know.”

“No,” Gale shakes his head, a slight smirk on his lips. “Ma literally loves you as if you were her own daughter. Even Rory, now that he’s mostly gotten over his pervy phase with you, see’s you as his sister.”

Madge decides its best not to ask what exactly his “pervy” phase entails.

“I myself can’t imagine a family meal without you,” Gale admits with a nervous chuckle. He stares at his knuckles as he continues talking. “I know what you’ve lost, and I’d never suggest replacing it, but I just want you to know that…my family is as good as yours.”

Madge had been certain she had used up her tear quota for the next decade, but her eyes still find a way to moisten at Gale’s words, a warm feeling enkindled within her chest.

“Thank you,” Madge repeats, voice thick. She reaches over and slips her hand into his much larger one. For a moment, his hand is stiff around hers, before they move and their fingers are intertwined. Madge looks back at the lake, one finger still tracing the cool of the ceramic plate, the other engulfed in the rough warmness of Gale’s hand.

They stay like that until the hovercraft arrives.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually cried for a bit while writing this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading. You can actually listen to the song Katniss was singing on youtube, just type in "tomorrow will be kinder" by the secret sisters


	20. Interlude

Once, when Madge was younger, she had been skipping rope by herself in her backyard, her ribboned pigtails bouncing with each jump, gray schoolgirl skirt billowing with each leap.

It had been a pleasant spring day; she had just come back from school an hour ago, and had forgone her afternoon snack in lieu of spending more time outside.

She was singing a little rhyme she heard other girls chant in the schoolyard during recess while they skipped rope:

_“Cinderella, dressed in yell’a, went to the ball and found a fella. Did his name start with an A?”_

This was when you began jumping. The point of the game was that whichever letter you stumbled on would be the starting letter of the name of your future fella.

She had just gotten to the letter _G_ when the sound of the gate opening behind her surprised her and made her trip and fall.

It had been her Father, who had come back to pick up a file he had left behind mistakenly.

He ended up carrying her back in after apologizing for startling her, and the housekeeper dressed her scraped knee.

But the housekeeper had not been entirely vigilant in her nursing, because some dirt must have remained within the wound, as it became infected and throbbed rather terribly.

A few nights later, feeling clammy from the now intense heat wave, and irritable because of her aching knee, Madge had flung off her blanket and with great determination tore off the band aid taped across her knee.

The sight of the pus-filled flesh repulsed her, and she nearly gagged as she tried to process this gory scene was indeed an actual part of her. But she had begun this, and it was only right that she ended it.

So, with a deep breath, Madge reached down and squeezed the sides of her knee until the pus oozed down her leg in a nausea-inducing trail.

Her knee hurt much less after that stunt, and healed along the same speed any other scraped knee takes.

As grotesque as the metaphor is, that’s how Madge feels as she steps out of the hovercraft and back in 13: emptied of rotting waste, and ready to mend the lacerations deep inside her: she’s ready heal.

_“You embody the best of them.”_

Katniss’s earlier words echo through her mind as she and said girl dutifully change in the mildew-y locker room.

“Katniss,” Madge says softly, standing in just her underwear. Katniss looks uncomfortable to be speaking in their state of undress, but lifts an eyebrow in questioning. “I’ll prove it. I’ll prove to you that I embody the best of them.”

Katniss gives her a small but genuine smile, though there is a shade of confusion in her slate gray eyes. “You already have.”

Madge just shakes her head and grins: she’s been touched by the Mockingjay’s flames, and now the whole world would see her burn.

 

* * *

 

Madge had to give it to Cressida and her team: asides from the impressive editing of the promo, which had begun with Katniss wearily looking out at the ruins of 12, and had slowly built up to all three members of Team 12 going through their own tiny arcs of sorrow to finding strength, it had to have taken extreme skill to have edited out the sound of Madge’s wailing to get Katniss’s beautiful singing voice on its own.

As unnerving as it was to see herself from a third-person point of view (and it was obvious she had been edited as well, there was no way she looked like that), Madge had to admit, the combination of Team 12 exploring the ruins separately and coming together to stare at in quiet unity, while Katniss sung a sweet song of hope moved Madge more than she would have expected from a video under two minutes, but here she was, sniffling as she clutched Katniss’s hand.

“Well?” Heavensbee asks expectantly as soon as the clip ends. Everyone around the round table looks over to gauge Coin’s reaction.

As typical, her face is carefully schooled. “Isn’t the song a bit too…mellow, to inspire rebellion?”

Heavensbee shakes his head, but it’s Haymitch that answers her complaint.

“When you’re fighting for your life, small moments of beauty give you more strength than rage,” he says gruffly, staring almost despondently into the distance.

Madge would have to check up on him tonight, see if he was alright.

“Time will tell,” is all Coin says.

And so they wait.

 

* * *

 

 

A day after that meeting, Madge walks into the cafeteria only to come across the sight of Gale clutching Katniss tightly. Her heart clenched tightly with both pain and jealousy before she looks up and sees the beaten face of Peeta Mellark, begging for a surrender.

A man next to her yells at the screen. Calls Peeta a traitor and other vile words.

 Is he? She isn’t sure if she can answer that.

Madge looks at Peeta’s tortured blue eyes to Katniss’s shuddering form and can only come to one conclusion.

The world needs more love. Desperately.

Madge sends a prayer for Peeta’s protection. Traitor or not, she knows he needs it.

 

* * *

 

At this point, she’s pretty sure she was cursed as an infant that whoever her boss, in whatever profession, was to hate her guts.

“What was the bloody point of taking the combat test if you wanted to be a medic?” Jackson barks, face red with anger. “You realize you’ve made us a much needed soldier short?”

Madge swallows tightly. This was not at all how she was expecting her transfer request to go.

“I,” should she further humiliate herself and admit that she was certain she wouldn’t pass and look like a complete loser, or lie and come off as an unreliable and flaky person? “I’ve been asked to be a part of the Mocking propos, and I think...that having a medic on site would be, um, helpful.”

Jackson narrows her eyes but says nothing. Technically, what Madge has said isn’t a lie, rather a decision made at that very moment. Despite featuring in a propo already, Madge was uncertain in whether she wanted to continue filming, or actually fighting in the war. She had been tipping towards staying with Katniss, but Jackson had, well, given the final push.

Jackson brings up her wrist and punches something into the communicuff.

“Report to the hospital tomorrow,” she practically snarls. “And stay out of my sight.”

Madge happily obliges.

 

* * *

 

“Tired?” Madge asks haughtily.

“You,” Rory huffs, arms trembling dangerously. “ _Wish_.”

“Vick, how is Madge stronger than Rory?” Posy asks, and Madge can’t help but grin smugly, her smile only widening at the sour look on Rory’s face.

She and the second oldest Hawthorne kid are in the middle of a very serious handstand competition, and while Madge doesn’t like to brag, it’s clear who the winner is going to be.

“Crap!” Rory yells right before his arms buckle. He’s able to push forward just enough so that he lands on his back instead of his head, but it still looks like a painful tumble.

Madge gracefully bends back her legs until she’s on her two feet, and sways for a moment from the blood rushing back down.

Vick and Posy are laughing hysterically at their brother’s defeat as Madge goes to help him up, only to be pushed away from him.

“That wasn’t fair!” Rory snaps, face still very red from all the blood going to his head. “You have _those_ to keep you balanced!”

“Boobies?” Posy asks innocently.

_“Yes_ ,” Rory says strongly. “That’s why you won!” Vick’s scoff restores her faith in the male gender.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Madge tells him amusedly, ruffling his hair and sharing a look with Vick, who clearly has a stronger grasp of the general laws of physics than his older brother.

Posy opens her mouth, and for a moment Madge is afraid that she’s going to ask something about breasts, when the door opens and reveals a rather sweaty Gale.

“Gale!” Posy squeals, thankfully forgetting _whatever_ she had just been about to say. Madge has a favor to ask Gale, and she can’t very well do that if he’s in a bad mood, and Posy mentioning Madge’s, or anyone’s, breasts will certainly put a slight damper, if not awkwardness on things.

“Hey Pose,” Gale greets cheerfully, pulling her up into his embrace and planting a quick kiss to her cheek.

Madge can almost cry. He’s in a good mood!

“You totally missed out Gale,” Vick informs him. “Madge just kicked Rory’s butt in a handstand contest.”

“Weren’t you listening?” Rory seethes. “It’s unfair because-”

“I LOVE strawberries!” Madge shouts the first thing that comes to her mind. She needs to have Gale in a good mood, and that means no boobies!

All four Hawthorne’s look at her with varying degrees of confusion and concern.

“Um,” Madge giggles nervously. “Just wanted to share.”

Having effectively, if not unconventionally changed the topic, Madge turns to Gale and gives him what she hopes is her friendliest smile.

“Hey Gale, I understand if you’re busy, but I was actually given a little assignment for my medic classes, and I could _really_ use your help with it,” Madge says as sweetly as she cans.

She’s tempted to elbow Rory has he fake gags, but instead keeps her eyes on Gale as he appraises her curiously.

“Uh, sure,” Gale answers hesitantly. “I don’t know how I can help though, I know jack about doctor stuff.”

“Well, um, you see, you would be helping me by being my volunteer.”

“Volunteer for what…?” Gale asks slowly.

“We were asked to find a patient that would be ideal to draw blood from and let’s be honest, you’re the most muscular guy I know, which means your veins are big and healthy and therefore the best for the job so I just thought that maybe-”

“Undersee,” Gale cuts her off, a smug smirk on his face. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” was all Madge could say. Well that was easier than she thought.

“Can I shower first?” Gale asks. “I just got back from a workout.”

Madge glances at the wall clock and bites her lip. “I’m actually already five minutes late…”

“Fine,” Gale sighs. “Rory, you’re in charge till Ma is done napping.”

“Actually,” Madge says, remembering something. “Prim’s been asking to see you; do you want to come along?”

Rory, to her surprise, scoffs. “As if. The best part of being in 13 is no longer having to deal with her annoying voice.”

“You’re just jealous she’s taller than you,” Vick snickers. Posy had grown bored with their conversation long ago, and was enraptured by something on Madge’s tablet.

“It’s just an inch!” Rory shouts, leaping up to his feet and stalking towards Vick dangerously.

“Cool down,” Gale tells him, pulling him back his collar. “You’re coming, because leaving you two alone will obviously just lead to a fight.”

Rory looked torn as he considered his options: deal with Vick’s comments, or Prim’s voice? It seems that Prim’s voice is less contentious, as he grudgingly stalks out the room.

Madge is over the moon that Gale’s agreed to volunteer. She’s been in medic training for the past two weeks now, and frankly, she’s been greatly enjoying herself. They’ve gone through the basics of setting broken bones, treating burns and wounds, dealing with head trauma, and other abilities that make the difference between life and death out on the battlefield, and now they were moving on to skills that required more nuance, like drawing blood and setting up an I.V.

While her immediate supervisor was a man probably older than Panem, and a sense of humor deader than the Dark Days, her instructor Kelly was one of the sweetest people she had met, and Madge was glad she been able to do as was asked of her by someone she looked up to. It also helped that she was able to hang out a lot more with Prim, who was always a nice presence to be around.

It takes them longer that Madge would have liked to get the hospital, on the account of Rory dragging his feet, but once they reach the wing where the trainees congregate, Madge sends an excited wave to Kelly before leading Gale and Rory over to where Prim stands off in a corner, sorting through a box of needles.

“Hey Prim,” Madge greets happily. “Look who I brought!”

“Gale!” Prim exclaims, before looking to her left. “ _Rory!_ I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Yeah, well I’m a busy man,” Rory sniffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away from her, a bored look on his face.

Prim doesn’t seem to mind his behavior, indicating that’s his usual attitude towards her, though Madge can’t fathom why-how could anyone _not_ like sweet Prim?

“So, you’re Madge’s volunteer today?” Prim asks Gale with a giggle.

“Yup,” Gale answers, lifting his arm to flex it. Madge can practically _feel_ all of the women in the room’s eyes on his bulging muscles.

_Take that, I have the best volunteer!_

“Madge said she needed my big strong arms,” Gale continues coyly, smirking at her.

Madge frowns at him as her face heats up. “Stop saying that weirdly.”

“Can you just stab him already?” Rory groans. “I’m bored out of my mind here!”

 “I’ll go get Dr. Silverman so we can start,” Prim volunteers helpfully. She gives both Gale and Madge a quick hug, and goes to do the same with Rory, but he suddenly bends down to fiddle with his still-tied bootlaces.

Prim frowns briefly before shrugging slightly and continuing on her way.

“You are _so_ obvious,” Gale snickers as Rory straightens. “When’s the wedding?”

“Shut up!” Rory hisses, looking around frantically to see if anyone overheard them. “She’s annoying and weird, I’d rather suck on a dirty sock!”

A slow, but genuine smile begins to stretch across Madge’s face.

“You like Prim?” Madge asks him excitedly, before frowning. “Why do you act like you hate her?”

Rory, for some reason, glares at Gale pointedly. The Hawthorne-telepathy seems to work, because Gale clears his throat.

“Just leave it princess, kids go through these phases,” Gale mumbles while Rory smirks triumphantly.

Madge frowns and is about to demand what that little look was for, but Dr. Silverman and Prim have returned, so she her questions are pushed aside by her excitement once more. Today she’ll be able to prove to Dr. Silverman, Kelly, Prim, Rory, and Gale himself just how useful she can be.

“You know the briefs,” Dr. Silverman sighs, as if he wished he was anywhere but here. “Just get on with it.”

“I’ll be here if you need any help at all!” Kelly adds in a much nicer tone, with a friendly smile directed to everyone.

Not wanting to wait a moment more, Madge takes both Rory and Gale by the hand and pulls them to an empty examination table.

Dutifully covering the table with a plastic sheet (traditionally it’s paper, but in 13, not only is it plastic, but they’re also reused…) and dramatically gestures at Gale to take a seat.

“I need to go wash my hands and get the gloves, can you roll up your sleeve?” Madge asks Gale politely as she makes her way over to the sink and washes her hand in the meticulous way they’ve been taught to, before donning on (once again, reusable…) gloves.

It seems that Gale refuses to submit to any form of authority, even polite requests, because instead of rolling up his sleeve, he’s taken his entire shirt off. To top it all off, he isn’t even wearing an undershirt, leaving on display a torso that, frankly, made Madge feel lightheaded.

“I said roll up your sleeve, not take off your shirt,” Madge croaks.

“Yeah,” Rory crinkles his nose. “No one needs to see all that body hair, it’s disgusting.”

“If your balls ever drop, you’ll have chest hair too,” Gale snaps, crossing his arms across his wide chest almost self-consciously. Madge doesn’t know what Rory is talking about, the dusting of black hair on his pecs and the magical trail below his navel has her brains practically short-wiring.

“It doesn’t matter,” Madge quickly says, trying to convince herself more than anything. She waves over Prim who comes over with the needed tools.

“You’ve got this,” Prim says encouragingly as Madge tears open the small packet with the alcohol swab. “Just keep a cool head and remember your training.”

_Cool head and a shirtless Gale? That’s less likely than President Snow becoming a rebel!_

Madge takes a deep breath and shakes her head just slightly. She needs to get a grip; Gale is just a guy, an extremely attractive, intelligent, and recently overwhelmingly kind guy…but a guy nevertheless! She could do this.

Madge gently takes his forearm in her gloved hand and turns it over so she can clean the inside of his elbow while Rory loudly asks Prim if she has any prescription-strength deodorant she can give Gale.

“What’s with the frown?” Gale asks, making Madge look up. With him sitting and her standing in front of them, they’re in that rare occurrence where they’re eye to eye.

“Oh,” Madge says dumbly, flustered momentarily by the proximity of their faces; she hadn’t even realized she was frowning. “I was just thinking that your arms usually look…veinier.”

“Have you exercised recently Gale?” Prim asks, cutting off Rory’s slander on Gale’s personal hygiene habits.

Now it’s Gale that frowns. “Just got back from a workout, why?”

“He might be dehydrated,” Prim tells Madge. To Gale, “Let me get you some water.”

“What? No,” Gale immediately refuses, looking offended by her suggestion. “My body can handle a little needle.”

Madge can’t help but roll her eyes, though she’s thankful for the interaction: it’s easier to think of him as just a guy when he feels emasculated by the notion that there might not be enough water in his body.

Madge picks up the syringe and attaches the apparatus that Gale’s blood will empty into. His skin is dark, so it takes her a moment to visually locate a vein, but she eventually finds one, placing the tip of the needle against his skin, her hand trembling just slightly.

Madge looks back up at him and tries to give him a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

For someone going all macho over getting pricked just moments ago, Gale looks rather nervous.

“You sure you know how to do this?” Gale asks gruffly, looking more and more uncertain with each second.

_“My body can handle a little needle_ ,” Madge mimics, dropping her voice to the lowest octave she can reach. “Want to switch out with Rory?”

“No!” Gale snaps, glaring at Rory who looks delighted. “Just making sure.”

“Well, here goes,” Madge says, before she pushes the needle in.

It’s rather anticlimactic, if Madge is being honest. She pulls back the syringe plumber slowly, and Gale’s blood begins to flow into the small vial

Actually, it’s almost poetic. _Drawing your lover’s crimson blood, the power of healing in your tender hands…_

In hindsight, Madge should have been paying more attention to her patient than composing bad poetry regarding said patient in her head, because Gale suddenly slumps over and falls off the examination table, the glass vial with his blood shattering.

“Oh my god!” Madge screams, rushing over to his fallen form as tears of guilt and fear swarm her eyes. “Someone, help!”

“He’s just fainted, it’s alright,” Prim says soothingly as she makes her way next to her. “Rory, come over here and hold his feet up.”

Madge sniffles and nods her head, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. She feels awful, standing in front of Gale’s unconscious body on the cold floor, so she sits down and lays his head on her lap.

“Fatso needs to lose some weight,” Rory huffs, as he adjusts his hold on Gale’s legs.

By now, Dr. Silverman and Kelly have rushed over.

“What happened?” Dr. Silverman asks, looking interested in the first time since she’s met him.

“I’m not sure,” Madge admits shamefully. “He was a bit dehydrated, but seemed fine otherwise…”

“Was he nervous?” Silverman asks, eyes skimming over the blood splattered on the floor.

“Blubbering like a baby,” Rory supplies somewhat helpfully.

“That along with the dehydration most probably resulted in a decrease of blood pressure, thus the fainting,” Silverman concludes, already moving away. “Get him fluids once he’s awake.”

“I’m so sorry,” Madge apologizes to Kelly. While Silverman taught them theory, Kelly helped them master the practicals, and she feels as if she’s failed both Gale and Kelly. “I did everything I wasn’t supposed to do: I freaked out and forgot all about my training.”

“Training manuals have no sections on how to treat loved ones, because it’s one of the hardest things to do!” Kelly tells her kindly. “No one judged you for how you reacted; it’s only natural.”

Madge’s cheeks burn at how easily Kelly was able to see that she loved Gale. She peeked over at Rory and Prim to gauge their reactions: Prim was cleaning up the blood and Rory stood looking bored.

They were probably not paying attention, Madge concludes.

“Hell’s….teeth,” Gale groans, gray eyes slowly fluttering open, which actually cracks a small smile from Madge. “The hell happened?”

“You fainted like total pussy,” Rory taunts, dropping his legs.

Gale opens his eyes fully and looks right into hers.

“Hey,” Madge says quietly, voice still scratchy from the crying. “You scared me.”

“ _You_ disappointed me,” Rory complains. “Here I was, relieved that you had fallen into a coma or something, and I didn’t have to deal with your crap anymore.”

“Here,” Madge hadn’t even realized Prim had left until now, as she crouched down with a tall glass of water for Gale. “You need to drink this.”

Gale pushes himself up, and the spot where his head had rested on her lap feels oddly cold in his absence.

Madge bites her lip as she watches Gale gulp down the contents of the glass. How can she make this fiasco up to him? Her eyes flit over to where Prim and Rory stand next to each other, both also watching Gale, and an idea suddenly comes to her.

“Rory, spider!” Madge exclaims, and that’s all she needs to say before Rory shrieks and jumps towards Prim, wrapping his arms around her.

Though Prim has that inch of an advantage over him, she’s still too slight to withstand the sudden impact of a boy as big as Rory, and Madge watches the two of them topple over-giving Madge only seconds to spring forward and catch both of them, letting them use her body as a landing mat.

“Oof!” Madge gasps as both teens fall on her. Rory almost immediately scrambles off of them, letting Madge more than easily help Prim off of her. To their side, Gale is laughing louder than she’s ever heard him.

“Are you ok?” Prim asks in concern once she’s standing again, Gale continuing to laugh indiscriminately. Rory’s face is redder than it was after their handstand contest.

“Of course, I am,” Rory tries to snap, but his voice comes out much higher than normal, which makes Gale double over once more. At this point, even Madge can’t help but giggle.

“This is a _hospital_ , not a park!” Silverman shouts, startling Gale and Madge into silence. “Get out this _instant_.”

It seemed that the boss hating curse continued.

Tail between their legs, the three of them quickly rush out of the hospital, though every time Gale and Madge make eye contact, they had to bite their lips to keep from laughing.

“You’re dead to me,” Rory says once they’re out of hearing range. “You hear me? D-e-a-d. Don’t ever talk to me again. Don’t even _look_ at me again.”

“Oh Rory,” Madge says mischievously, linking her arm with his and holding on when he tried to break free. “I think it’s more than fair to say that today you and I got even. Truce?”

Rory looks at her wearily before nodding.

Next to her, Gale chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re something else, princess.”

And there returns the guilt.

Relinquishing her hold on Rory, Madge takes a step towards Gale.

“I’m so sorry Gale,” Madge apologizes earnestly. “I was stupid and got distracted and this never should have happened-”

“You more than made up for it,” Gale interrupts her easily, smirking at the dark look Rory throws him. “Don’t worry about it. I was the thickhead that wouldn’t drink water.”

Madge purses her lips, not totally satisfied but decides on not pushing it. It had been, after all, rather hilarious watching Rory freak out like that.

They’ve made it back to the room and Madge is momentarily surprised to see a tall, very well-built middle-aged man standing by the door, before she recognized him as Katniss’s newly assigned bodyguard: Boggs.

“Hey,” Katniss greets them both quietly. “Coin wants a meeting.”

 

* * *

 

Madge can’t stop shaking.

It’s been at least thirty seconds since the screen went dark, but the echo of the gun still rings in her ears, and all she can see is the white bags tied around the rebel’s faces turning red from their blood. It’s an effective, if not desolate reminder that it doesn’t matter how many moments of happiness she’s able to steal down here, above looms war.

As Madge’s mind replays the image of the noble rebels collapsing to the ground like Gale had, Madge vows that her hands will staunch the blood of martyrs to the greatest of her abilities.

The blood of the Capitol can flow through the streets for all she cares.

“Footage from 6, 10, and 11,” Heavensbee says. “The propo _worked_ , Madame President, that’s why the Capitol is cracking down.”

“Indeed, it seems it has,” Coin comments with a small smile. “What do you propose for the next video?”

“Well,” Heavensbee hesitates for a moment. “Rebel forces have managed to take over a sizable portion of 8. I think a video there would work well.”

“No,” Mr. Abernathy immediately. “You’re not sending her out into a warzone.”

“Rest assured Haymitch, I’ve spoken to the ground commander there, and a secure visit _can_ be arranged.”

Mr. Abernathy looks like he’s going to continue arguing, but Madge gives him a soft, but pointed look. They can’t make Coin their enemy. He seems to struggle for a moment before finally backing down.

“I want to go,” Katniss speaks up for the first time, as what was now tradition, they held each other’s hands. “That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it? Only authentic things, nothing fake.”

Coin looks at Katniss carefully, and for a moment, Madge is nearly certain she sees something like displeasure in her eyes, before its neatly masked away.

“You can leave tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Madge says quietly to get Gale’s attention. They’re on their way to the labs to meet up with Beetee Latier, who’s claimed to have made something that’s of interest to Katniss and Gale.

“What’s up?” he asks as he falls in step with her, Katniss and Boggs walking in front of them.

“Nothing, I was just wondering, do you think it’s a good idea to grab Vick?” Madge asks. “He’s really into this stuff and I thought he might like it.”

Gale’s gaze is almost…tender, as he smiles at her. “That is a good idea. Do you want me to go with you?”

Madge shakes her head. “No, Katniss needs you.”

Gale’s eyebrows dip just briefly before he nods.

Hazelle is giving Posy a shower, so she luckily doesn’t have to deal with a five year old begging to be taken along to a potentially dangerous lab, and with an excited gasp from Vick and a sour look from Rory, the two of them make their way.

The lab Madge was told to go to was a bit far from the Hawthorne’s room, and Madge decided to indulge in sweet Vick a bit, since the two of them rarely, if ever, got time alone.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Madge begins as they step inside an elevator. “Why Cyborgs?”

Vick looks down at his shoes shyly. “It’s dumb,” he mumbles.

“Hey,” Madge protests, affectionately ruffling his hair. “It’s not dumb if it makes you happy.”

“It’s not that,” Vick sighs. “It’s just…when I learned about Cyborgs, all I could think was that….maybe, if my Dad had robot arms, he could have d-digged himself out.”

Madge feels her heart shatter. All this something, something she had just brushed aside as a childish obsession was just a testament to how big and innocent Vick’s heart was.

“Come here,” she says quietly, pulling him into a tight hug. Even when the doors open, she keeps her hold on him and they both shuffle out, earning a strange look from two women stepping around them.

“I wish my Dad had robot arms too,” Madge whispers. “But he didn’t, and now he’s gone. But you know what?”

“What?” Vick mumbles against her collar bone.

“Maybe one day you’ll make a pair of robot arms that’ll save someone else’s Dad, and both our Dad’s will look down at you with a lot of love and pride.”

Madge doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling. Who knew she could love a boy who- just a year ago was a stranger-as if he was her own brother?

“Your Dad didn’t even know me,” Vick protests, but he doesn’t remove his arms from her sides.

Madge kisses the crown of his head. “Yes, but I love you, which means he would have automatically loved you.”

When Vick finally pulls away, his cheeks are adorably red, but after a few moments, he reaches over and shyly takes her hand. Madge intertwines their fingers.

Gale raises an eyebrow at the sight of them entering the lab still holding hands, but Madge hardly pays him any attention, because she catches sight of two people she hasn’t seen in a while, and has missed. Gently nudging Vick towards Gale, Madge quickly makes her way.

Bristel and Al are to the side of the lab, by the computers. Al is seated, and Bristel is leaning against his chair; both of them in deep conversation as they look at something on Al’s tablet, heads close together.

Madge clears her throat, and Bristel nearly jumps a foot in the air.

“Madge!” Britsel exclaims, stepping forward, but Al beats her to the punch.

_“Margaret!”_ Al pulls her into a hug, and Madge laughs at his typical melodrama. “I haven’t seen you in a millennium!”

“Madge’s _brother_ is giving you a pretty stinky eye right now,” Bristel tells Al amusedly. Al lets go of her and rolls his eyes.

“That still going on?” Al asks her, and Madge looks away in embarrassment. Right, these two knew of her not so little crush on Gale.

“So what are you two up to?” Madge asks, hoping that’s enough to change the subject.

It seems to work, because Al grins widely.

“I must thank you profusely,” Al tells her sincerely. “For you have not sent me an assistant, rather one of the most brilliant minds I’ve encountered in my life. If Bri puts up with me long enough, I’m convinced we’ll make time travel doable.”

Madge raises an eyebrow at his use of the nickname ‘Bri’, but Bristel looks exceptionally pleased, so doesn’t comment.

“We work well together,” is all Bristel says, but her smile is wide as she turns around to address a _ping_ noise the computer made.

“So, do-”

Madge is cut off by an explosion. She stumbles into Bristel as she whirls around, only to find Gale smirking triumphantly at her as a flaming arrow lies lodged in the bullseye of a target.

So that’s what Beetee’s been making.

“Sorry,” Madge apologizes to Bristel, who just rolls her eyes.

“Tell your brother to apologize, no need to shove his testosterone in our faces.”

“He’s just…competitive,” Madge says lamely.

It’s Al who rolls his eyes this time. “Because that’s why he did that just now.”

“Anyways,” Bristel says, saving Madge from further embarrassment. “What brings you down here?”

“We’re going to 8 tomorrow,” Madge explains. “Katniss and Gale are getting upgrades.”

“You still got that button Bristel gave you?” Al asks, peering down at her wrist.

“Yup!” Madge holds up her hand for him to see. Suddenly curious, Madge presses the red button.

“Agh!” Al shouts as his body jerks violently for several moments, emitting a faint buzzing noise.

“Al!” Bristel shouts, helping him sit back up once he’s stopped twitching. If Al’s hair stood up before, it was nothing compared to how it looked now. “You idiot, did you set the alert to _tase_ you?!

“In my defense,” Al wheezes. “I had meant to make it just 5 volts. I may have accidentally put a zero after it.”

“You are unbelievable!” Britsel scolds him, sounding genuinely angry. “I’m going to get a Doctor.”

“Bri, I promise, I’m fine,” Al attempts to placate her, but Bristel isn’t having any of it.

“Shove it Al.”

“Actually Bristel, I’m a medic now-”

“Not now Madge,” Bristel says as she hurries out of the lab, totally ignoring her. “I’ll be right back!”

Madge turns back to Al, truthfully a little hurt at how Bristel had completely written her off.

“Why would you make the alert an electrocution?” Madge asks, totally perplexed. That didn’t sound like something a genius would do.

“I was afraid I might be asleep when you sent an alert,” Al admits. “I wanted to make sure I’d receive it.”

Madge is so touched she wants to cry. Instead, she pulls Al into a hug.

“Thank you,” Madge whispers, hoping she conveys just how much his dedication means to her.

The sound of another explosion makes her jump once more, and Beetee laughs loudly as he claps Gale on the shoulder.

“Asshole,” Al mutters.

Madge narrows her eyes at him.

“Not your brother,” Al clarifies. “Beetee. I can’t stand him, it’s bad enough that I have to share a lab with him now, but he totally rips off my blueprints and builds off of them.”

“Scientific rivalry?” Madge teases, but stops when she sees the serious look on his face.

“It’s more than that,” he says, watching the bespectacled victor with a frown. “The guy just builds and designs and invents with…no regard to its consequences.”

Madge follows his gaze and sees said man and Gale talking rather animatedly over something as Katniss and Vick toy around small gadgets in the back.

Gale looks up and sends her a smile, which Madge immediately returns, but not without a slight sense of dread in her stomach.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter in hopes of making up for the long update pause! I do apologize, but engineering school is brutal and my subjects are no longer ones I can just wing.
> 
> A more technical note: I have played around a bit with syntax, instead of the usual format. Was it awkward and sudden, or did you guys like it?
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed!! :)


	21. Dante's Inferno

Madge was not at all surprised when she opened the door to find Mr. Abernathy still in bed, on his stomach, snoring obliviously away.

Normally, she wouldn’t bother waking up, instead, bringing him some breakfast for later, but Coin had decided before Team 12 departed for 8, she would announce to 13 that the Mockingjay had joined their ranks and more importantly-the conditions under which she had agreed to.

It had not escaped Madge’s notice that Coin was giving this announcement only after Katniss had proven competency with their first propo.

“Mr. Abernathy,” Madge whispers, gently shaking his shoulder after sitting his bowl of porridge on the table next to his cot. “You have to get up, attendance is required.”

Mr. Abernathy mumbles something incoherent before resuming his loud snoring.

Madge sighs and puts her fingers to her mouth just like Rory and Vick taught her, and whistles loudly.

“Wha-who’s thar!” Mr. Abernathy shouts as he shoves himself away from the bed, blindly fumbling for something. Madge is about to ask him what he’s looking for when he turns on her, knife in hand.

“It’s me!’ Madge cries as she ducks as lunges at her head.

Mr. Abernathy squints at her. “Madge?”

Madge gives him an unimpressed look. “Who else?”

Mr. Abernathy grumbles about teenage insolence as he returns his knife from its place beneath his pillow.

“Could have been Trinket,” Mr. Abernathy grunts, swinging his legs over the bed and looking thoroughly unhappy at being up at such an hour. “Or the firing squad.”

Madge ignores his quip about execution, latching onto his earlier words.

“Trinket?” Madge huffs. “As in Effie Trinket? Why would she wake you up?”

“Has a real knack for bugging the ever living shit outta me,” Mr. Abernathy snaps as he heaves himself off his cot, hissing as his bare feet come in contact with the cold floor. Madge waits for him to add like you, but he doesn’t.

How sweet.

Pulling an apple from her pocket, Madge reaches for the knife under his pillow and deems it clean enough to use, slicing the apple to add to the bland porridge.

She’s done with her task when Mr. Abernathy comes out of the bathroom, still looking mostly bleary-eyed, and hands him his bowl.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he says softly, ruffling her hair with one hand and taking the bowl with the other.

Madge pulls her knees up to tuck under her chin as she observes the older man eat sloppily. In the quiet moments when it was just the two of them, Madge felt both happy and guilty. Happy, because sometimes Mr. Abernathy would say or do something that would make her feel as if he saw her as his own daughter, which would be what lead to the guilt. It had only been 4 months since her Father had died! What sort of person was she, so quickly replacing her dear Father?

She looks away from him, now missing her Father again. Sometimes she thinks if she could get just one hug from him again, she could die happy.

Mr. Abernathy releases a loud belch, signaling the end of his meal. “I’d bet my left kidney that horse manure tastes better than the food in this shithole.”

“What’s wrong with your right one?” Madge teases, taking the plate over to the bathroom to rinse it. Though her time there was brief, she still felt a comradery with her ex fellow-dish washers and tried to return her dishes as clean as possible.

Suddenly, the bathroom door is shut behind her, plunging her into darkness.

“Mr. Abernathy?” Madge calls out, whirling around in confusion and slight panic.

“Sorry kiddo,” she hears him say from the other side of the door. “But I can’t let you go on your little field trip to 8 today.”

Madge wants to scream in frustration-why were all the men she cared about so insufferable?

“So you’re just going to keep me locked in the bathroom?” Madge struggles to keep her voice calm.

“You’ve got water, a toilet, and I think you’ll be ok with no food for a few hours,” Mr. Abernathy reasons. “And you can sit in the tub!”

Madge pays him so attention as she turns on the light and hauls herself onto the sink, pressing against the ceiling tiles, hoping desperately for a loose one.

When she finds none, she jumps down angrily.

“I have my communicuff!” Madge threatens, even though she hasn’t figured out how you send messages on it. “I’ll call Gale, and he’ll get me out.”

“I am so glad you brought him up,” Mr. Abernathy calls back in false sweetness. “Just what on God’s earth is going on between you two? How many times have I told you he’s nothing but a bastard?”

Madge makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “Why are you asking me this?! You know he’s in love with Katniss!”

“Which makes him an even bigger bastard for always hanging off of you!” Mr. Abernathy shouts. “I should castrate the pig….”

“Mr. Abernathy, this is ridiculous, Katniss needs me! Isn’t she the focus of this all?” Madge tries to reason. “Besides, outside of 13, the safest place to be is with Katniss-Coin can’t afford to lose her.”

There’s a moment of silence, before the door is opened, revealing a very sullen Mr. Abernathy.

“Katniss isn’t my focus,” Mr. Abernathy says quietly, not looking at her.

Madge frowns in confusion. “Why not?”

Mr. Abernathy shakes his head, as if it's obvious. “Because you are.”

For a second, all she can do is gape at him, trying to comprehend his words. When it finally sinks in, she jets forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Mr. Abernathy. He pulls her even closer to him, resting his chin on top of her head.

In his warm hug, she feels like a little girl again, and a happy feeling of nostalgia bubbles in her chest.

“I held you in my arms when you were a newborn,” Mr. Abernathy whispers. “I saw you grow up. I watched you risk your life to save someone else’s. You take care of me even though I’m an itch in the ass. How can you not be my focus kiddo?”

Madge buries her face in his chest. She shouldn’t feel guilty hugging Mr. Abernathy like she did her Father, because in the end, loving someone new does not replace past loved ones in your heart, it just makes your heart grow.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” Madge tells him sincerely. “It’s easy to feel alone when you’re an orphan, but you’ve just given me another reason to stay as safe as I can when I’m at 8.”

“Just promise me this,” Mr. Abernathy pulls her back just enough so she can look into his gray eyes. Though his skin is weathered and lined, eyes heavy with a dark past, Madge sees traces of that handsome, stubborn Seam boy Aunt Maysilee once knew. “No hero shit-do what you have to do to stay alive, ok?”

Madge nods, and wonders if Maysilee had not been killed in the arena, would she and Mr. Abernathy have held hands when she wasn’t dying?

“I will,” Madge promises, and gives him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be bugging you for a long time to come.”

Mr. Abernathy smirks. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

They walk to where Coin will be delivering her speech, the conversation light despite the heaviness of anxiety for what’s to come still lingering.

Madge tries to find the Hawthorne’s among the crowd, but can’t, so instead settles close by Mr. Abernathy as they watch Coin come up to stand before the crowd in a balcony. She can make out Katniss’s shadowy figure behind her.

“Thank you for interrupting your schedules,” Coin greets the district, her voice loud with an undertone of static as she speaks into a microphone. “They have already been adjusted to compensate for this event.”

Madge can’t help but roll her eyes; four months she’s been here, and she’s yet to meet a person from 13 that didn’t view life as something more than just working.

“I have an announcement for the citizens of 13,” it’s so quiet in the large square, that Madge can actually make out the quiet hum of the machines constantly running to keep 13 habitable. “Katniss Everdeen has consented to be the face of our cause to help unite the Districts against the Capitol.”

Around her and Mr. Abernathy, everyone shouts, akin to war cries, as they cheer on their president-but Madge doesn’t take her eyes off Coin.

Her face reveals nothing, it’s as if the joy of her District is just another calculation within her detailed schematics.

“In exchange, I have promised several concessions,” the cheers quiet almost immediately as the District hones in on their president's words again. “First, we will assess all opportunities for the extraction of the Victors held hostage in the Capitol.”

An angry murmur goes up in the crowd, but Coin continues speaking.

“Once freed, they will be granted full pardon for any and all crimes committed against the rebel cause.”

It’s as if a bomb went off in the square.

“Hang him!” a woman screams in front of her. “Hang the traitors!”

“Peeta Mellark is a criminal!” a man next to her shouts, accidentally elbowing her as he tries to get closer to the front. Mr. Abernathy quickly puts a protective arm around her shoulders.

Madge watches with horror as the crowd nearly turns into a mob, and looks up to see Katniss also watching, her face ashen.

“If Katniss Everdeen fails to fulfill her duties, the deal will be off,” Coin concludes coolly, looking totally unaffected as the district melts into madness. “Thank you for your attention. Please resume your daily schedules.”

Mr. Abernathy is trying his best to shield her from the shoving and screaming people around them, but all Madge can focus on is how as soon as Coin departs, Katniss also flees.

“Katniss needs me!” Madge shouts to Mr. Abernathy, who nods in understanding. Together, they fight a path out of the angry crowd, who has yet to calm down, and as soon as they’re in a less crowded hallway, Madge breaks into a sprint.

It takes her a good 10 minutes, but Madge finally reaches the Everdeen room. Yanking the door open, Madge nearly melts with relief when she finds Katniss curled up onto her cot, sobbing.

“Oh Katniss,” Madge says sadly, as she makes her way to her friend. Katniss just curls further into herself.

Madge seats herself on the edge of the bed and runs a gentle hand through Katniss’s hair.

“Peeta will be ok,” Madge assures her. “Please don’t be so sad, everything will be fine.”

“I feel so pathetic,” Katniss whispers, voice scratchy from crying.

“Why?” Madge asks, totally bewildered. “None of this is your fault, Katniss, and you’re doing everything in your power to save everyone!”

Katniss shakes her head, more tears leaking from her beautiful eyes.

“Do you know why I joined the rebellion?” Katniss cries quietly.

Madge says nothing, waiting for her answer.

“It was for Rue,” Katniss tells her. “I thought to myself, I don’t want to live in a world where innocent little girls just like Rue were murdered for sport.”

“I entered the games for Prim,” Katniss continues. “In a way, this is all for my sister.”

“But now?” Katniss sobs. “I’m not the girl on fire anymore, I’m just a pathetic girl who cries over boys.”

“You are so much more than that,” Madge assures her. “And there’s nothing wrong in crying over a loved one!”

“I wish I was like you,” Katniss confesses. Madge’s hand stills in its petting, leaving her staring dumbfoundedly at Katniss. “You could care less about romance, you volunteered for combat with no motive other than serving the rebellion, and you’ve lost both your parents, but you’re still so strong. I’m so….weak, and pathetic, next to you.”

“Katniss,” Madge whispers, shaking her head incredulously. “I was going to kill myself after the bombings, but you know what stopped me? You.”

Katniss blinks away some of the tears in her eyes to stare at her in confusion.

“I had a dream that night,” Madge explains. “And you gave me the strength to continue. And it was you again who inspired me to enroll in combat. And it was you who consoled me when we went to 12. Something inside me had broken that day, Katniss, but you put me back together.”

Katniss doesn’t say anything, so Madge takes a deep breath, knowing she has to say this.

“And you’re wrong,” Madge says quietly, removing her hand from Katniss’s head. “I-I do care about romance. I’ve been in love with Gale since I was 13.”

Katniss’s eyes snap open and stare her in shock. Her confession sits heavy on her tongue: that’s the first time she’s ever spoken her true feelings about Gale aloud.

“That’s why you brought the morphling,” Katniss says, as her features slowly darken. “There is something between you two!”

Madge’s mouth almost falls open. “Katniss, believe me, Gale love you completely! There’s nothing between the two of us besides friendship.”

“Yeah right,” Katniss snaps, sitting up and pushing herself roughly off the cot. “That’s why you became friends with me in the first place, isn’t it? To get closer to Gale.”

Madge feels like she’s been stabbed in the stomach.

“What? No!” Madge cries, tears of hurt springing to her eyes. “How can you say that Katniss? I started sitting with you before you even knew him!”

Katniss falters but then grows angry again.

“You sat with me because you had no one, and then you stayed with me to get Gale,” Katniss spits. “That’s why you want Peeta back, isn’t it? So you can have Gale all to yourself!”

Madge’s hurt transforms to anger. “Is that really what you think of me? You think I gave you the pin of my dear Aunt for a boy?”

“You know what’s your problem Katniss?” Madge continues angrily. “When you love people, you try and own them, because you think that’s the only way you won’t lose them. If you and Gale got together, I would be nothing but happy for you, but I see now that if it was the other way around, you’d throw a hissy fit until everything was back to your perceived notion of normal!

“You know what my normal is?” Katniss shouts back, face bright red with fury. “It’s living every day in total fear, it’s going to sleep and seeing violent nightmare after nightmare. It’s knowing if I fail, Peeta will die, and the revolution will collapse. It’s knowing Coin hates me, and if I make one mistake, it could leave Prim endangered. It’s having the blood of innocent children on my hands.”

“So go back to chasing Gale,” Katniss snarls. “Not only would he never choose you over me, but he hates your spoiled, bratty normal!”

For a moment, the two girls just watch each other, waiting for the other to strike.

When that doesn’t happen, Madge speaks quietly.

“When we go to 8, I’ll have your back,” Madge says. “I’ll take a bullet for you, if it comes to it, but when we come back, I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

Madge can tell she’s taken Katniss by surprise, but she doesn’t care, and slams the door behind her.

She doesn’t know if she’s ever felt angrier. To think, that was what her allegedly best friend had thought of her. Well, Madge didn’t need her. Despite this, Madge still locks herself in a broom closet and sobs for a good 15 minutes.

When she becomes dizzy from crying, she forces herself to forget about what happened, even though the dark feelings still swirl dangerously around her. They have to fight a war. There just isn’t the time for these feelings.

By the time she enters the cafeteria, she’s much more composed and is able to sit and have lunch with the Hawthorne’s with none of them realizing she had just had her heart broken.

“Hazelle, I really am too full,” Madge complains, but the older woman ignores her completely, dumping more chicken from her plate onto Madge’s.

“You need to eat up!” Hazelle scolds her, pushing her plate closer. “Unless you’re planning on having snack time in 8.”

Madge sighs and forces herself to continue eating.

“Can y’all bring me back a souvenir,” Rory asks around a mouth full of food.

“If we find a pill that makes you taller, we’ll definitely bring it back,” Gale tells him with a sardonic smirk.

“She’s only an inch taller!” Rory shouts, slamming his fork onto the metal table. “I swear, when my growth spurt hits, it’s over for you.”

“So we have to wait till Posy’s a grandma?” Vick teases, narrowly missing Rory’s fist.

“Boys,” Hazelle says sharply. “Stop teasing Rory.”

“I’m gonna have a lot of babies,” Posy tells them as she sticks her tongue in her cup of jelly. “I’m gonna name them reeeeed, oraaaaange, yellooooow, blueeeeee, and greeeeen!”

“Don’t joke like that, Posy,” Gale tells her, looking gray at the idea of Posy having children.

“It’sa-it’s notta joke, Gale,” Posy huffs, rolling her eyes.

“You can have as many babies you want when you’re married,” Hazelle says to Posy, cleaning her face with her sleeve, before looking at the rest of them pointedly. “That goes for all of you. Wait. Till. Marriage.”

Perhaps this was her favorite part of keeping up with the Hawthorne’s, only they could so completely distract her from the woes of her life.

“Too bad Prim would never marry a guy shorter than her,” Vick snickers, unable to dodge Rory’s fist this time.

After stopping Vick and Rory from engaging in an all-out brawl, they begin walking to the air hangar from where they’re to depart; Rory and Vick with special permission to return to class late to see their brother off.

Rory, Vick, Posy, and Gale walk ahead of Madge and Hazelle, Posy on Gale’s shoulders and Vick and Rory flanking them.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong now?” Hazelle asks her quietly as they both observe the rambunctious siblings.

Madge looks up at her in surprise, she had been sure she had hidden her feelings perfectly.

“Oh don’t give me that look,” Hazelle chides gently. “I know you, child. Now fess up.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, Madge sighs. “I just...got into a dumb fight with Katniss.”

“Katniss?” Hazelle echoes. “I thought you two were closer than peas in a pod.”

“Me too,” Madge mumbles dejectedly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much just yet,” Hazelle tells her. “Two people in any kind of relationship, that never fight means neither of them cares much about the other.”

Madge just shrugs. It doesn’t look like she and Katniss still have a relationship between them, but says nothing.

Civilians aren’t allowed in this particular hangar, so all goodbyes have to take place right outside of it.

Madge hugs Hazelle first, since she’s the closest.

Her embrace is both soft and strong, and once again Madge wishes to grow up and be just like Hazelle.

“Stay safe, be good, and come back,” Hazelle whispers, before pressing a kiss to her temple.

Madge gives her a shaky smile and nods, before turning to Vick. He fidgets shyly, before taking out a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

“Here,” he thrusts the paper towards her, looking down at his feet while he does. Deciding its best not to ask him where he got the paper from in front of his mom, since it most probably involved theft, so Madge just takes it from him and unfolds it.

It’s a picture of her (she knows become of the arrow pointing to the figure, reading ‘Madge’) with robot arms.

“It’s ‘cause I don’t know how to build em yet,” Vick says quietly, nervously rubbing his toe into the ground. “So I drew it for you.”

Madge grabs him into a tight hug. “Thank you Vick” she whispers. “I’ll treasure this always.”

Vick gives her a timid peck on the cheek while Rory exaggeratedly rolls his eyes.

“This is way too sappy for me,” Rory complains. “Just go and come back for Pete's sake.”

Madge rolls her eyes. “Will do.”

Skipping Rory, Madge squats in front of Posy, whose lower lip is trembling dangerously.

“I don’t want you or Gale to go,” Posy says sadly. “That’s where the bad guys are.”

“I know, but if we don’t go, then the bad guys will win,” Madge tells gently, drawing her into her arms and standing up with her in her embrace. Oh, how much Madge loves little Posy, it surprises even her.

“Be nice to your brothers and listen to your Ma,” Madge whispers as she sways with Posy in her arms. “And before you know it, I’ll be right back.”

“Ok,” Posy says quietly, and Madge just holds her in her arms for a moment, closing her eyes and just taking in her sweet smell. Finally, she puts her down and kisses her cheek, then the other, then her forehead, then her nose, her chin, and she forces herself to kiss her soft cheek one last time before finally standing.

Gale touches her arm. “Let’s go.”

Madge waves to the Hawthorne’s once more before entering the hangar, right behind Gale.

“If I didn’t know any better I think Posy was sadder to see you go then me,” Gale jokes, glancing back at her.

“Then you don’t know any better,” Madge teases back.

“Madge!” a loud, high-pitched voice calls out. Madge looks over and finds Delly waving frantically, with Thom right next to her.

Gale and Madge make their way over to the couple, and Madge is quickly enveloped in a tight hug.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Delly gushes, squeezing Madge tightly. “You stay safe in 8, you hear me! I’ll miss you like crazy! Remember, duck and cover! Also, always go with a buddy.”

“I will,” Madge assures her friend with a laugh.

“Guess who’s going to be your pilot today?” Thom asks smugly.

“There must have been a mistake,” Gale says flatly. “The itinerary says fly to 8, not crash and die five minutes out of 13.”

“Oh ha ha,” Thom says sarcastically, before pulling Delly by the hand. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go make out with my gorgeous girlfriend in the cockpit before she’s kicked out for being a civilian.”

True to his word, Thom and Delly really do climb into the hovercraft.

“You know I was there when they first met?” Madge tells Gale as he stares at the hovercraft in barely concealed disgust. “And now they’re head over heels. They make it look so easy.”

The last part comes out more wistfully than she had intended, and Gale looks over at her sharply.

“Trouble in paradise, princess?” Gale asks her, leaning against the hovercraft and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

_He would never choose you over me._

“There is no paradise,” Madge says bitterly. “And I don’t think there ever will.”

Gale frowns. “Why do you say that?”

It embarrasses her to tell Gale this, but she continues speaking to Gale, if only to just spite Katniss.

“Not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but there aren’t really any guys fighting for my attention,” Madge mutters. “And I doubt that will change.”

To her surprise, Gale laughs.

“Yeah, real funny, huh?” Madge sneers, tempted to knee him, but Gale shakes his head.

“Can’t you see how obvious it is why guys don’t approach you?” Gale asks, still chuckling.

Madge braces herself as she waits for him to insult her looks or intelligence, but he does neither.

“Smart guys are scared of your beauty, and dumb guys are scared of your intelligence,” Gale tells her. “You name the price and I’ll set a wager that the next time you cross a man in the hallway, when you turn around, he’ll be looking back at you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Madge squeaks, her face feeling like it’s on fire. Did Gale...just call her beautiful and smart?

Katniss and her prep team arrive, ending their conversation. Katniss’s presence squashes the warm feelings Gale had ignited in her, and she takes what she’s supposed to wear from Octavia and heads to the locker room.

She dresses quickly, even though the uniform is far too tight, and the shoes too big, and pulls her hair into a bun. Just as she’s about to leave the locker room, she bumps into the Leeg sisters.

“Well look who it is,” Bella greets her. “Miss. Deserter!”

Madge winces at the nickname.

“She’s kidding,” Leah laughs. “No hard feelings, right girl?”

“Of course,” Madge says relievedly. “I miss training with you guys.”

“Well, we’re being sent out to 7, but that can be arranged if we all come back,” Bella tells her. Madge can’t help but be shaken by the ominous ‘if’.

“Definitely,” she says instead. “I’m going to 8 right now, but I really hope I see the two of you again.”

“Kick ass,” the twins say in unison, making Madge laugh.

She leaves the locker room and heads down the hallway that will lead her back to the hangar. Just then, a young man reading something on his tablet rounds the corner and looks up at her. They make eye contact briefly before Madge looks away and he back at his tablet.

When she reaches the door, she bites her lip and considers what Gale told her. Unable to stop herself, she looks over her shoulder, and sure enough, the man is staring at her, though he immediately whirls around when he’s caught.

She should be thinking about her mission, but instead, her mind is giddy with the shallowest of thoughts….maybe she really was pretty.

She sobers considerably as she picks up her med pack, and checks its contents to make sure it has everything that’s needed.

Since she’s a field medic, she isn’t cleared for a gun but is instead given a long, and very sharp knife which she’s to hang from her belt. She can’t help but feel like the knights from the dark days, who slew their enemies with their holy swords. Granted her knife in no way qualifies as a knife, but it makes her feel cool regardless.

Madge tries to listen to Bogg’s briefing, but her attention is diverted to keeping her anxiety down as the hovercraft lifts off. As much as she loves Thom, the fact that’s he’s flying just adds to her anxiety.

Once they’ve been in the air for a while, Madge is able to focus more on her surroundings, and finds Katniss with her belt off, so that she can sit as close as she can to Gale, her hand in his.

When she looks up from their entwined hands, she finds Katniss staring at her stonily. Unable to take the tension between them, Madge also unbuckles herself and stands up, swaying for a moment before walking to the door that leads to the cockpit.

Sliding open the door, she finds not one, but two pilots, the first one fast asleep.

“Thom?” Madge whispers panickedly. “Why is he asleep!”

“The craft is on autopilot,” Thom explains in a normal decibel. “I’m copilot, so I’ve gotta watch out to make sure everything’s ok.”

“Is this safe?” Madge asks incredulously, no longer whispering; it’s clear now that the older pilot won’t wake up.

“Yup,” Thom assures her. “You see this?” he points to an instrument on the dock. “This radar tells us if anything airborne is near us in a pretty large radius.”

Madge eyes the radar warily, wondering about its reliability.

“Wanna learn how to fly?” Thom asks mischievously. “I can’t take it off autopilot, but I can show you the basics.”

So that’s how she spends the ride to 8. Thom is, admittedly, not a shabby teacher, and Madge actually learns a lot, even though she’s worried an incoming Capitol hovercraft could show up at any moment.

“That's 8 up ahead,” the pilot besides her suddenly wakes up. Not even looking at her, he says, “You should head back now.”

Madge nods, and with a quick wave to Thom, returns to the main area, where everyone is standing in harnesses with a wire clipped to the roof off the hovercraft.

“If you’re done socializing, get into a harness and clip it up,” Boggs tells her annoyedly.

“W-what are they for?” Madge asks nervously.

“We’re air dropping in,” Gale answers for her. “Since it’s too dangerous to land.”

Madge feels like vomiting. “I can’t jump out of a hovercraft.”

“Then why did you come on this mission?” Boggs yells, making Madge flinch violently. Asides from when she told Gale that she was going into combat, she’s never had a man yell at her before. “If you wanna suck your thumb and cry like a brat, go back to 13!”

“Don’t yell at her!” Gale shouts back, looking like he’s about to pummel his commanding officer.

“Let’s all calm down here,” Cressida speaks up. “We need a medic on the field. Madge, can you go down with me?”

Madge nods in relief, jumping off a hovercraft was too daunting, but going down with someone made the ordeal bearable.

“No, I’ve done something close like this before,” Gale says. “Madge, come with me, I can get us out of the harness quicker.”

“Blondie, I don’t care how the hell you get down, but if you’re going by airdrop, get in a damn harness now,” Boggs hisses, glaring acidly at her.

Madge scurries over to Gale and he drops his harness so that they can both step into.

“Here, I need you to hold on to my neck so I can strap us both in,” Gale says, crouching down a bit so she can hold on. Once he’s grabbed hold, Gale straightens and Madge’s feet leave the ground, making them eye-to-eye.

Once the harness is snug around them, Madge realizes she had not anticipated just how close this would leave them. The last time she had been this close was during their duel, but now that neither of them is trying to win, they’re just left with the bodies squashed to each other and nowhere to go.

Trying to ignore how solid he feels against her, Madge looks over and sees Katniss pointedly looking away, her lips thin.

It’s terrible of her, but she feels smug. She also feels extremely flustered because it’s getting harder and harder to think with Gale’s breath warm on her face and his body all over hers.

Finally, the hovercraft stops moving, and Boggs lifts a latch on the floor, revealing District 8 below them. He jumps down fluidly.

Because Gale had to detach his clip, they’re the last ones in the queue, and when they reach the latch, Gale looks right into her eyes, their noses almost touching.

“Don’t let go,” Gale whispers.

“I won’t,” Madge promises.

And then they jump.

She keeps her eyes tightly shut the entire time as their bodies fall to the ground, and only opens them when she feels the thud of Gale’s feet hitting the ground. True to his word, Gale does free them both quickly, and in the next moment, Madge finds her standing in District 8.

“Katniss Everdeen?” a voice calls out. They all look over to see a woman and a few men with guns following her. “So you really came.”

“Katniss, this is Commander Paylor,” Cressida introduces. “Commander, Katniss came out here to see some of your wounded.”

“Got plenty of those,” Paylor huffs. “Come on then, but be mindful of landmines.”

They follow Paylor and her men through the District. While 12 had been demolished, 8 bares resemblance with its war-torn buildings and heaps of dirt and ashes everywhere. Every now and then, the sound of distant gunfire is heard, making Madge jump. People dart by her, sometimes rebels, sometimes not, and Madge wonders how people can live here, with bullets and bombs flying over their heads constantly.

“That there is our hospital,” Paylor points to a shabby looking building. Not a place Madge would have guessed to be a hospital, but she supposes that’s the point.

They enter the building and are immediately affronted with the stench of rotting flesh. Lining both sides of the hallway are rows and rows of barely covered corpses. Madge wants to gag, the sight reminding her the night 12 was bombed, and the corpses that had lined the fence.

“We have a mass grave a few blocks west, but I can’t spare the manpower to move them yet,” Paylor explains. “Hospital’s past that curtain. Any hope you can give them, it’s worth it. The Capitol’s done everything they can to break us.”

“Aren’t you worried about having all your wounded in one place?” Katniss asks, and Madge finds herself nodding along.

“I think it’s better than leaving them to die,” Paylor answers in a hard voice.

“That’s not what I meant,” Katniss says quietly.

“That’s the only other option,” Paylor says, and even at a distance, Madge can see the pain behind the strong front the woman puts on. “If you have any other ideas, I’m all ears.”

They finally reach the curtain, and behind it is a large room,  packed brim with people, some bustling, some comatose.

Madge slowly surveys the room. Paylor wasn’t lying when she said they had plenty of wounded people. It just takes one look around to realize how badly understaffed they are. The worst site, however, is all the small children that lay on their beds alone.

One particular boy, who’s wearing no shirt despite the frigid temperatures, catches her eyes from the way he’s staring at her. The white of his bandaged torso contrasts strongly with his dark skin, but it’s the sadness in his big brown eyes that move her towards him.

“Hello,” Madge greets softly once she’s near him. He can’t be older than two. He continues staring at her with his large eyes, and Madge’s heart constricts terribly in her chest. While she had seen plenty of sorrows on the faces of Seam children, she’s never seen a child so young, look so hopeless. “What’s your name?”

There’s such a long pause, that Madge figures that perhaps the boy can’t yet speak.

Just when she’s going to say something else, he opens his small mouth, and says so quietly that Madge almost misses it, “Dante.”

This makes the woman who’s treating a girl behind Dante look up sadly.

“That’s the first-word poor thing’s said since his folks passed,” she tells Madge. “I scooped him outta the rubble when our neighborhood was bombed. Wonder he lived at all.”

Madge drops to her knees and takes his small hands in her much larger ones.

“I’m so sorry Dante,” Madge whispers. “My parents died too, so I know how you feel.”

“Katniss Everdeen?” a woman asks loudly. Everyone turns to look at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” Katniss answers in a strained voice.

The woman frowns in confusion. “But what about the baby?”

Madge had totally forgotten that the country was still under the belief that Katniss was pregnant.

“I lost it,” Katniss says quietly.

“Are you fighting Miss. Everdeen?” A young girl with dirt-streaked face and clenched fists asks. “Are you here to fight with us?”

Madge watches Katniss straighten, see’s the girl on fire come back. “I am. I will.”

Madge feels a pressure on her hands and looks down to see little Dante clutching her hands tightly.

“Don’t worry,” Madge assures the little boy. “She doesn’t mean any fighting here, you’re safe Dante.”

His grip slackens, but not totally.

“Madge,” she looks up to see Gale standing at the exit, beckoning her forward. “We need to keep moving.”

She looks at little Dante. “I think I’m going to stay, actually.”

Gale immediately marches over to her. “Madge, we need to stick together at all times. We can come back, but right now we need to go.”

Madge sighs because she knows he’s right.

Dante’s eyes are filled with tears when she looks back at him and tightens his grip when she tries to get up.

“No!” he whispers, fat tears spilling onto chubby cheeks.

“I’ll be right back,” Madge promises, feeling like a witch as she forcibly extracts herself from his grip.

“ _No!_ ” Dante repeats more urgently, starting to make soft crying noises.

“I’ll be back,” Madge says again, wiping at her own eyes as she follows Gale out.

They pass a canal on their tour of the war zone, and Paylor explains how several of them run through the District and are rerouted to their large industrial factories to keep the machines cool.

She’s just about to explain a plan she has for blocking off the canals when a man runs forward and whispers something in Paylor’s ear. She turns around and stares at where he points.

“There’s a problem,” Paylor tells them, eyes worried as she stares at the horizon.

“What sort of problem?” Boggs asks.

“Incoming bombers from the North,” Paylor says tightly. “We need to find cover-”

“Katniss!” Boggs suddenly shouts, as the girl darts into a partly demolished building.

“Katniss!” Gale also shouts, running right behind her. Madge is aware of the camera crew and Paylor’s men following Katniss, but Madge only has her eyes on the bombers.

They’re coming north, heading  south west, whereas they’re to the east, and if Madge has noticed most of the rebel fighters are stationed out east, so must the Capitol

Almost immediately, Madge knows where they’re headed.

_The hospital_

Madge hears heavy gunfire as the Paylor’s men try to shoot down the plane, and with just a press of the button, a missile is shot out of a bomber, and the gunman is blown up.

Madge processes none of this as she runs as quickly as she can. She has to warn them!

Another huge explosion makes her look up, and sees just in time two blazing bombers crashing into the ground. The shockwave sends Madge sprawling onto the ground, but just as quickly as she had fallen, she pushes herself up.

The hospital is just in front of her, and Madge forces her legs to move faster than they’ve ever gone.

“Get out!” Madge screams as loudly as she can, hoping they can hear her.

“Get ou-” her second scream is cut short by the dropping of the bomb, and Madge first sees, before she hears and feels the hospital blow up.

The force of the explosion throws her back, and she crashes roughly against the ground, the breath totally knocked out of her lung.

She sits up slowly, hardly noticing the several cuts and burns across her body, and just watches the hospital burn.

She wants to scream, die, cry, hide, and run all the same time.

Her mind thinks of little Dante, how he had begged her not to leave him.

By the time the others have reached her, she’s sobbing violently, clutching at her hair as her mind tries and fails to rationalize such extreme violence.

“Help them!” Katniss screams desperately. “Someone help me get them out!”

Boggs grabs her arm to keep her from rushing into the burning building.

Gale comes to her and falls to his knees, pulling her shaking body close to his. “Are you alright?”

Madge can’t answer. She isn’t sure if she can ever speak again.

“Katniss?” Cressida speaks. “Katniss, can you tell us what you’re seeing?”

Katniss looks straight into the camera, her face glowing as the sunlight hits the tear trails.

“I want the rebels to know I’m alive. That I’m in District 8, where the Capitol just bombed a hospital, filled with unarmed women and children, and there will be no survivors,” Katniss says in a voice that quiets everything else.

“If you ever think, for one second that the Capitol will treat us fairly,” Katniss continues. “Then you’re lying to yourselves, because we know who they are, and what they do.”

“This!” Katniss snarls, pointing to the burning hospital behind her. “This is what they do, and we must fight back!”

“I have a message for President Snow,” the Mockingjay says in a dangerous voice. “You can torture us. Bomb us, and burn our districts to the ground. But do you see that? Fire is catching.”

“And if we burn, you burn with us!” the Mockingjay shouts again, filling Madge’s eyes with tears once more.

Katniss was absolutely right. Snow had burnt all that she had loved, and Madge would not rest until she helped destroy everything the Capitol stood for. To do anything else was to be a treacherous coward.

Madge stands up without Gale’s help and stares at the hospital. Fire had caught, and Madge no longer feared the flames.

Her mind thinks of only little Dante as they walk to the spot where the hovercraft is to pick them up.

If the hospital and all its staff were gone now, who would help other children just as helpless and innocent as Dante?

Madge falls back just enough so that she’s by Paylor.

“I want to stay here,” Madge tells the woman quietly, who raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m a medic, and I can help train people so that you can have some healers again.”

“What you saw today is our reality,” Paylor says, but not bitingly. “Can you handle that?”

“With all due respect commander, I wouldn’t be able to handle turning my back on this District if I left knowing I could help,” Madge replies honestly.

“Welcome to the rebel forces,” Paylor says somberly.

Madge jogs until she’s reached Boggs.

“Commander Boggs,” Madge calls out to him. “Sir, I’m going to say and help 8 set up a new hospital.”

“What? No!” Gale shouts immediately. “Madge, you almost died today! Are you crazy?”

To her surprise, Katniss also speaks up.

“He’s right, you can’t stay here,” Katniss tells her directly, eyes still wet.

“Do you realize the risks involved by staying?” Boggs asks her, ignoring Katniss and Gale.

Dying. Torture. Both. “I do, sir. But these people need my help.”

“Madge, I’m just as upset as you, but you can’t do this!” Gale pleads. In the corner of her eye, she sees a 13 hovercraft approaching.

“You can’t have a revolution without truth, and there is no truth without solidarity. If I do not love the children of 8 as I would my own, then we will lose this war, because the Capitol stays in power by our separation” Madge tells him. “I’m staying, and I’m helping, or my soul will go to tarnish.”

Gale flounders for a moment, before his face sets in determination. “I’m staying too, then.”

Madge immediately shakes her head. “No, Gale. You belong with Katniss.”

Gale looks stricken by her words, and Madge looks over and finds Katniss staring at her with apology and confusion in her teary eyes.

“Why?” she whispers, as the hovercraft comes to hover above them, blowing Madge’s hair wildly. Madge knows what she’s really asking without her having to say it.

“Because…” Madge pauses as she tries to word what she’s feeling. “Because to love is not to possess, but to understand.”

“I’m so sorry Madge,” Katniss cries, but Madge just steps forward and hugs her best friend tightly.

“Go,” she says to both of them. “There’s a war to fight.”

  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, let me say this: 200 kudos?? No way!! It makes me so SO happy to know random strangers read my words and like them!!
> 
> Moving on....Wow, I think this was the longest chapter yet! I write to cope so I think the length will tell you how crappy my life is rn lol...
> 
> Anyways, I know most of you are upset that I separated Gale and Madge, but you will see very soon this separation will have both a profound, and important effect.
> 
> ALSO if any of you are following closely, you'll remember that Madge told Al when she first met him, that she had only been in 13 for a month. That's wrong!! By my self-made timeline, it's been 4 months since 12 was bombed, leaving them in December. In this AU the war was not won in 6 weeks.
> 
> Long note for long chapter. Huge thanks to my beta, nursekelly! 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	22. Gale

His jaw was clenched so tightly, he could feel an errant muscle twitching in his cheek from the strain. He pays little attention to that.

“Are you alright?”

He turns to his left and finds Katniss peering up at him worriedly. He looks away from her. It’s irrational, he knows, but at that moment, he despises Katniss. It’s because of her he left Madge behind.

Fuck.

He breathes sharply through his nose as he tries to push down his terror for her. He had left her in a fucking warzone, all alone. He shuts his eyes as he imagines Madge, small and kind, fighting desperately just to stay alive in the worst of conditions. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He unbuckles his safety restraint and stands up on trembling legs. It feels as if he’s been shot in the chest.

“I need to go back,” he tells Boggs. “She-I need to be there.”

Boggs shakes his head. “That’s a negative Hawthorne, we can’t turn back now. Besides, you were there when I gave her my communicuff, a hovercraft will pick up its beacon in one week and bring her back.”

Gale is about to lunge for him and break his nose- one week is too long, but at the last second, he’s able to reign in the rage. Getting into a fight won’t save Madge.

“Gale-,” Katniss tries to say, but he just walks past her to the cockpit.

“Sit down, Hawthorne,” Boggs commands icily, but Gale ignores him and sprints to the door. He’s able to close it just seconds before he hears fists pounding on it from the outside.

“What’s going on?” One of the pilots asks nervously, while the other continues to pilot the craft, though she also shoots back a confused glance. The door continues to be pounded against, but the metal is too thick for the shouting to be heard.

“Change of plans,” Gale tells them lightly. “We need to go back to 8, just for a bit.”

The copilot frowns, but it’s the actual pilot that speaks up. “I’ve got direct orders, soldier. This craft isn’t stopping until we reach 13.”

Fine, they could do things the hard way.

“Turn this craft around,” Gale growls, pulling out his gun and pointing it at the copilot’s head, who immediately puts up his hands in surrender, face white. “Or I’ll shoot him.”

She just scoffs. “You’re bluffing.”

His finger is about to curl around the trigger when the door suddenly flies open. Katniss throws herself at him, but it’s too late. The tranq dart is embedded deeply in his neck.

_I’m so sorry, Madge._

 

* * *

 

He wakes up in the hospital, which just makes him hate 13 anymore. He didn’t need any medical attention, and for him to be here was just a waste of resources. But you know who did need back up, and had none?

His stomach twists terribly as he flings the thin blanket off of him. How long as he been unconscious? Was Madge still alive? Why the fuck had he left?

“Gale!”

He looks over at the door, and there stand Ma and the kids. Posy is the first to run over at him. His arms are shaking as he holds are close to him, his mind struggling to comprehend her chatter as his mind keeps darting back to 8.

“Are you alright?” Ma asks with a frown, running a tender hand through his hair.

He can’t answer that, not honestly, so he just nods.

“Where’s Madge?” Vick asks, looking around curiously. Gale sees the longing in his eyes, and when Posy peeps in a, “Yeah! Where’s Sissy?” a whole new layer is added to his endless shame.

“I,”Gale's voice is hoarse, and he has to clear his throat several times before he can speak. “She stayed in 8.”

Both Ma and Vick gasp, while Posy looks at him curiously, not really understanding what that meant.

Ma opens her mouth to say something, but Rory beats her to it.

“And you just _left_ her?” Rory says darkly. Gale looks at his brother closely for the first time since his return. He’s grown taller, and looks older as his face twists with fury.

Gale can’t speak, it’s as if he’s being burnt from the inside out from the shame and regret he feels so immensely. Posy begins to cry.

Rory punches him in the face.

This time he does need medical assistance, for the fracture in his cheek.

 

* * *

  
“Going to check on _Katniss?”_ Vick sneers as Gale stands, the first to finish his dinner. Rory hasn’t spoken to him since he punched him, if Posy isn’t crying she’s throwing a tantrum, and Ma just looks at him with so much disappointment in her eyes, but it’s Vick’s taunts that he has the hardest time with. Before now, Vick’s never even called Gale ‘dumb’.

“Vick,” Ma says tiredly. She doesn’t say anything else. Posy has her arms crossed over her chest, refusing to eat anything.

“I’m trying,” Gale croaks, to no one in particular. “I’m trying to get her back.”

For the past three days, ever since he’s been let out of surgery, he’s been practically begging Boggs, Heavensbee, even Coin once, anyone really, to authorize a craft for him to go back to 8. Today was the day he stopped asking and just did.

“If you weren’t such an asshole, you wouldn’t be in this position,” Rory speaks up for the first time in four days, though he doesn’t look at him.

 _“Rory,”_ Ma scolds again. Gale just shakes his head at her and leaves. It takes him a bit to reach Haymitch’s room, since he’s never been there before, but once he arrives, he opens the door without waiting. Only to fall flat on his face.

“What the-” but before Gale can finish his thought, Haymitch’s knee his on his chest, and his knife at his throat.

“I specifically told you to look out for her,” Haymitch growls, pressing the knife further into his skin. Gale’s eyes dart down and finds a broken wire at the base of the door. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go for your jugular, you sniveling pile of pig bastard shit?”

“I know I messed up,” Gale wheezes. It’s hard to breathe with Haymitch’s fat knee on him. “But I’m here to fix this.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow but doesn’t move his knife or knee. “By killing yourself?”

“I need your badge,” Gale gasps. He had tried to get it from Thom, but his so-called ‘friend’ had refused to help. It’s getting harder and harder to fill his lungs with air. “You...you have high enough security clearance ...to...get in.”

Haymitch lifts his knee, just barely.

“I’m going to steal a hovercraft,” Gale coughs. “I’ve been trained in the basics of flying. I can get to 8. I’ll bring her back.”

 _“If,”_ Haymitch says, not sounding at all convinced. “You’re able to pull this stunt off, you’ll be court-martialed the moment you come back, you know that, right?”

Gale meets his eyes directly. “I know.”

Haymitch gets off him and pockets his knife, watching Gale closely.

“You need to make up your mind, boy,” Haymitch mutters gruffly, shaking his head. “You’ll go batshit soon if you don’t.”

“What?” Gale asks with a frown. “Make up my mind on what?”

Haymitch doesn’t answer, just hands him over his badge.

“Her heart is big, but it’s also filled with a lot of hurt,” Haymitch whispers, not relinquishing hold of his badge, though it’s in Gale’s hand. “And if she’s still alive,” his voice cracks here, and he has to rub his eyes. “And if you hurt her, I swear on my Mother’s grave, I’ll kill you.”

 _Hurt her more than I have already,_ a remorseful voice adds in his head.

“I know,” Gale tells the older man sincerely. “I know. I’ll die if it means she’ll live.”

“Go,” Haymitch tells him tiredly, sinking down into a chair the way only an aging man can. “Go, and learn that it’s easy to die for someone. Living for them, that’s what’s hard, fool.”

 

* * *

  
In the airman uniform he nicked from someone’s locker, no one even notices him in the air hangar, making his way to the smallest hovercraft closest to the exit.

It’s only when he’s climbing into the craft that he’s stopped.

“Hold it,” a woman a few years older than him calls out. “Craft 432 is down for inspection.”

“I’m the inspector,” Gale bluffs, not looking at her while he fiddles with the controls.

“Really?” the woman asks with great interest. “That’s funny, because _I’m_ the inspector.”

Hell’s teeth.

Looking at her sharply, Gale racks his brains for a way out of this. “I know, I’m here to...review you.”

She arches a thick eyebrow. “Really. What department are you from?”

“Gale?”

He looks over and sees Thom rushing over to him.

“What’s going on?” Thom demands the woman, panting from his running.

The inspector’s eyes narrow. “You know him?”

“No,” Gale says the same time Thom says “Yes”. He wishes he could throttle the idiot.

“That’s it, I’m calling security,” the inspector tells them both, typing something into here communicuff.

“Whoa!” Thom reaches out, grabbing the wrist of the hand she’s typing with. “Gale’s a friend, he’s just visiting.”

Gale reaches for the lever that turns on the craft. The engine comes to life loudly, but when he tries to pull out, there are several MP’s in front of the craft with their guns out.

“You don’t need to point your guns at him!” Thom shouts, trying to de-escalate the situation. Gale shuts the overhead and sets the craft into gear; the MP’s can be run over for all he cares, but before he can taxi the craft out onto the runway, it suddenly shuts off.

“Moron,” the inspector mouths at him through the glass, waving a hand-held device.

The latch is suddenly reopened, and Gale is forcibly pulled out of the craft. He considers fighting, but he’s outnumbered, and besides, they have guns.

“Let me see your badge,” one of them asks Gale, while another twists him into handcuffs.

“Yeah, let me just hand it to you,” Gale snarls, as he’s forced to his knees.

“Look, he’s a good guy,” Thom continues desperately. “He’s just going through some tough times!”

“You’re definitely not Calloway,” the MP says, tossing the badge to the ground, ignoring Thom’s pleas. “Identity theft, breaking and entering, theft of military property, attempted violence against military personnel. You’re looking at a court-martial.”

Gale hangs his head as he bites his tongue so hard, he tastes blood.

He’s failed Madge.

_Again._

“He’s with the fucking _Mockingjay!”_ Thom shouts loudly. Gale hears instead of sees a scuffle. “Haven’t you seen any of the propos? You kill him, you kill the rebellion, asshole!”

The MP who handcuffed him speaks up. “Yeah, I recognize him. Think he’s her cousin.”

“What’s your name?” a female MP to his side asks. He looks up at her.

“Gale Hawthorne.”

She puts it in her communicuff before nodding to her commander. “He checks out.”

“Fine,” the commander growls. “24 hours in solitary.”

Gale can make out Thom continuing to stick up for him as he’s dragged away, but he thinks it’s futile; it doesn’t matter where they put him, he’s imprisoned regardless.

 

* * *

 

“Two things,” the prison guard tells him as they drag him through a cramped hall that is solitary. “Whatever you hear or see in there is fake.”

“Fuck you,” Gale tells him right before the door is slammed in his face.

The room is tiny, totally white, with a sink, chair, and a small bed.

Sinking down against one of the blank walls, Gale stares out in front of him blankly until his vision blurs, thinking of Madge’s face.

She had always been so beautiful, but he tries to think when she was the prettiest to him. Was it back when it was the two of them in the meadow at dawn? When he walked in on her and Posy still asleep, her arms around his baby sister? Or when she helped Vick with his homework or pranked Rory? Was it when she was under him, pink and breathless during their fight, or when she had stared out into the lake, hair blowing softly as she sat quiet and sad, but still so strong?

A sob rises in his throat as he realizes that her brave face right before he left her may be his final memory of her-and if it is, it’ll all be his fault.

He wraps his arms around his thighs and rests his head on his knees as he reflects on the bitterness of it all: just when he was ready for her to be in his life, she left.

Tears escape his eyes as he recalls spending hours with her, plotting to protect the revolution. The multitude of family meals she so seamlessly blended into. Her sad smiles and her dorky laughter. The blonde of her hair. The blue of her eyes.

His body ached for the sweetness of her presence, terrified of what the world would do to it, but all he was left with was the dust of memory.

“Gale?”

His head shoots up so quickly, he pulls a muscle in his neck, but he pays that no attention-he had just heard her!

“Madge?” Gale calls out, jumping to his feet and spinning in a circle, trying to look for her.

“Gale!” Madge calls again, but this time her voice is more desperate.

“Madge, where are you!” Gale shouts, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

“Gale, help me!” Madge screams.

“I’m coming!” Gale yells, running to the metal door and banging on it. “Let me out! Let me out, she needs me!”

No one comes to the door, so Gale is left with no other option other than grabbing the wooden chair and smashing it against the door.

“Let me out!” Gale shouts again as Madge’s screams grow louder. He’d kill whoever was hurting for. Tear their intestines out with his bare hands. Choke them with it. _“Let me out!”_

His hands are bleeding from the splinters, but Gale doesn’t even notice as he tosses a fragment of wood onto the destroyed chair. He needs to save her!

The crippling anguish he felt is replaced with black fury as he begins to pound on the door until his knuckles turn blue, purple, and red. When that doesn’t work, he begins to throw himself at it with all its weight. It doesn’t budge.

“Fuck!” Gale shouts as he sinks to his knees, his tears joining the blood splatters on his clothes. Suddenly, he’s 14 again, and the Mine’s alarms have gone off, and Gale knows, he just _knows_ his dad is dead, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He falls to his side, a piece of broken chair digging into his ribs, but he doesn’t care. Gale has only known two things in his life: longing and losing.

He always loses what he longs for, and longs for what he has lost.

_Always._

He somehow falls asleep and has a dream. Inside a small house, Madge sits on the edge of a bed in her reaping dress. When Gale reaches out and touches the base of her neck, her skin is set on fire, and all he can do is watch as she burns alive.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus Christ,” the new guard starts when he opens the door. “Dude, are you psycho?”

“Water,” Gale croaks, pushing himself off of the floor, muscles aching awfully.

The guard throws him a bottle, and the dried blood on his hands make it hard to move his fingers. The water somewhat soothes the burning in his throat but does nothing for the pounding in his head.

“I’m supposed to detain you longer if you make a mess,” the guard contemplates aloud. He’s young and looks a lot like when Rory is given chores. “But you’ll probably make a bigger mess for me to clean up…”

Gale doesn’t bother giving any input. He’s exhausted every mean of trying to get to Madge; it doesn’t matter if he’s held in here for one more hour or one more month, there’s no point if he can’t save her.

“Just go,” the guard sighs.

Gale heaves himself off the floor, ignoring the way his muscles protest and walks out of the room. He’s just out into the hallway when suddenly a loud alarm begins screeching, red lights flashing warningly.

Gale turns to the young guard, who looks like he’s just swallowed a fly.

“Is this real?” Gale asks.

“Y-yes,” the guard answers, eyes wide with terror. Gale takes off running.

For the moment, he’s able to push away his self-loathing and fear for Madge and replace it with fear for his family. It takes him longer than usual to get to the rooms since he’s going in the opposite flow, where he earns quite a few looks and “helpful” shoves, but finally, he makes it.

The room he shares with Rory and Vick is blessedly empty. So is Ma and Posy’s. He tries to ignore it was Madge’s too.

He should go down now, to the bunker, but his conscience stops him. Before the stupid fucking love triangle, he and Katniss were friends. Best friends. And he’s not going to abandon her like he abandoned Madge.

He runs again, though this time he doesn’t meet as much resistance as most people are securely tucked away in 13’s lowest level. Right as he rounds the corner that leads to the Everdeen’s compartment, he nearly barrels overs Prim and a rather annoyed buttercup.

“Prim!” Gale exclaims, steadying her by the shoulders to keep from falling. “Why are you still up here?”

“I had to get buttercup!” Prim explains frantically, looking down at the haggard cat in her arms. Gale picks the little girl he loves the same way he loves Posy and runs.

About halfway to the bunker, the bombs begin to fall, and though Gale is growing tired, he forces himself to run faster. Prim deserves to live a long, happy life, and he’ll get her to that bunker if it’s the last thing he does.

“Prim!” Gale hears Katniss’s frantic scream. “Gale! Come on!”

Katniss is waiting at the base of the stairs, across from the entrance of the bunker. The bunker, whose doors are closing.

Without a second thought, Gale tosses Prim down the stairs, into Katniss’s arms. The sisters stagger and nearly fall, but Katniss quickly recovers and hurriedly pulls Prim behind her.

Gale reaches the landing of the stairs and sprints towards the bunker, but the huge doors have lowered too much, so he pushes himself into a side lunge, and slides under the doors, the hairs of his head skimming the bottom of the door.

“Gale!” Katniss cries, coming forward to help him off the floor. Once he’s up, she hugs him tightly, her tears seeping through the cotton of his shirt. _“Thank you.”_

“Course, Catnip,” Gale says weakly. “Anything for you.”

Katniss pulls away and gives him a strange look, but says nothing. They both make their way to their respective families, and Rory and Vick look at him with something other than contempt for the first time in nearly a week.

“Gale!” Posy cries, squirming out of Ma’s arms to be held by him, her face streaked with tears.

Gale crushes her to his chest as he sinks down next to Ma, rocking her as her tears replace Katniss’s.

“Where were you?” Ma hisses, her own eyes glassy as the bombing continues. “We were so worried!”

“I had to get Prim,” Gale explains quietly. In the corner of his eye, he sees Rory stiffen.

Vick doesn’t say anything to him but sits very close to him. When Gale wraps an arm around him, he leans into his embrace. He can feel Rory watching him, but neither brother speaks as the Earth shudders and moans above them.

It’s a miserable night, as Gale oscillates between fear for his family and fear for Madge. If 13 was being bombed, what did it say about 8’s conditions? He prays that karma doesn’t take away one of his loved ones as retribution for abandoning Madge.

“Gale?” Vick whispers over Posy’s sobs, which have quieted down as she grows sleepier. “I’m sorry...I was just upset about Madge. I love you a lot.”

Gale looks down at his youngest brother. “I love you too Vick, I always will. And you don’t have to apologize, I deserved it.”

“No,” Rory speaks up, looking down at his knees while he does. “You didn’t. Madge made a choice, and you respected it.”

In his opinion, those kinds of choices shouldn’t be respected, but he doesn’t say that aloud.

“You proved you care enough about her to not try and...possess her, all for yourself, like you do with Katniss,” Rory continues, looking up to stare at Gale. “I’m sorry Gale. We were dicks.”

Gale blinks rapidly as he tries to process his brother's words? Possess? He didn’t try to possess Katniss. He thinks of their kiss right before the Victory Tour.

Maybe he had…

As the bombs continue to fall over their heads, Gale imagines kissing Madge while knowing she didn’t want to be kissed 100%. The thought sickened him.

The rest of the night is spent with Gale alternating how he felt about Katniss, and how he felt about Madge, their images being switched back and forth in his mind like a slideshow. With Katniss, things were easy. Things were what one assumed would be. With Madge, he felt that anger that’s been a part of him for so long, he can barely remember when he didn’t feel that way just....dissolve. Because Katniss just offered him a distraction, but Madge, Madge offered him an outlet to take his anger, his grief, his hurt, and turn it into something that could help others. Katniss was a focal point but Madge...she was the entire range.

He thinks of Madge, who stayed behind to help a District that meant nothing to her, and Katniss, who had been ready to run from her own home District. Madge, who had been afforded everything in a District of nothings, had run through a blizzard during a strict curfew, to save a stranger's life.

“Gale,” Ma speaks up quietly. She’s taken Posy from him to lay in her lap, and Vick and Rory are asleep in the cot across from them. “Why were you arrested?”

He swallows tightly. “I...tried to steal a hovercraft.”

Ma gasps before glaring at him. “Why on Earth would you do that?”

“To rescue Madge,” Gale answers immediately. Ma deflates at this, shaking her head.

“You love her,” Ma says simply. Gale gapes at her, unbelieving the words she had just uttered. Him? Love Undersee?

She...was right. Somewhere between the bombs that fell on 12, and the bombs that fall on them now, he had fallen, totally and completely, for Madge.

“I...do,” Gale chokes through his tears. “I-I love her, and I...I left her.”

“Oh, Gale,” Ma sighs sadly. “Did she ask you to stay?”

“No, but that’s no excuse!” Gale hisses, rubbing his eyes furiously. “She told me I had to go with Katniss because that’s where I belonged, and just-something about that sentence just rubbed me so wrong it-it stunned me, and I, I couldn’t think and then she was gone.”

“It stunned you because deep down you knew you belonged where Madge is, not Katniss, but you had not realized that yet,” Ma says soothingly. “Gale, you two were in a war zone where you have to make split-second decisions, and Rory was right, when it came down to it, your instinct told you to trust Madge. She’s a survivor, my boy. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Boggs gave her a week to stay there…” Gale tells her, his heart fluttering with hope. “She should come back sometime tomorrow...do you think she’s ok?”

Ma gives him a warm smile. “I’d be shocked if she weren’t.”

Ma gives him one more reassuring smile before lying down herself. Gale doesn’t allow himself to sleep, he wants to stay sharp in case things go south.

By the time dawn approaches, the bombs slow down to a trickle, until slowly, it’s silent. Katniss waves him over, and he slowly walks over to her. Finnick Odair nods to him while Boggs glares at him. Haymitch totally ignores him.

Together, their group makes their way all the way up to the ground.

The scene is...devastating.

“Fuck the Capitol,” Gale mutters under his breath as he takes in the miles of destroyed land. Besides him, Finnick snorts.

“In the ass,” he adds quietly. Gale’s lip quirks up involuntarily up at this.

“Look,” Katniss says in a strangled voice, leaning down to pick up a...white rose? Looking around, Gale realizes there are thousands of them scattered.

“No,” Katniss whispers, as realization dawns on her face. _“No.”_

“Katniss,” Boggs speaks up, but Katniss bolts. Gale is about to dash after her, but Haymitch shakes his head and holds out his hand.

“Give her some time,” he mutters. “She’s just figured out Snow’s personal message.”

“Which is?” Boggs demands impatiently.

“That he’s going to kill Peeta Mellark,” Haymitch answers gravely.

“We can’t let him get away with that!” Gale says angrily, unable to imagine just how devastated Katniss would be if Peeta died.

Bogg’s communicuff makes an urgent beeping noise, and his thin lips curl into a smile.

“5 cut Capitol’s power,” Boggs tells them with restrained happiness. “We’re clear for extracting the Victors from the Capitol.”

 

* * *

 

The rescue team leaves at night, which makes sense since they’ll need the cover of darkness, which gives Gale plenty of time to rest, eat, and be briefed.

“Will you be able to behave yourself?” Boggs had asked him snidely, looking not all happy that Gale had volunteered for the mission.

“I’ll follow your every order to the T,” Gale promises. “But you have to airdrop me back into 8.”

“She’s coming tonight,” Boggs said exasperatedly. “The communicuff I gave her was active yesterday, and someone in supplies spoke to her.”

“What?” Gale cried. “Why didn’t you tell me your communicuff received transmissions all the way in 8, I thought it was for the hovercraft tracking beacon!”

“Because you’d be harassing her while she worked,” Boggs snapped. “So, now that you know blondie is alive, will your head actually be in the mission or do I have to kick you off?”

Gale had been too overjoyed to know Madge was still alive to continue arguing, so he just nodded his head yes, in agreement. He’d just take the pilots hostage properly this time.

He’s waiting in the hangar for the final briefing for the final briefings before they’re set to depart. His body is buzzing with nervous energy. Who would have thought, just a year ago, he’d be risking his life to save two townies?

He’s leaning against a craft when Katniss rushes in, looking frantic before her gaze finally drops to him.

“I found out,” Katniss says in between gasps. “About the mission.”

Gale nods. “We’re gonna bring him back, Catnip.”

“You need to come back to!” Katniss tells him desperately.

“I will,” Gale assures her, though he adds, _‘later, with Madge’_ , in his head.

Katniss looks at him closely, as if deciding something.

“Gale,” Katniss begins slowly, as if she’s unsure about what she’s about to say. “There’s something you need to know before you leave.”

Gale raises a brow at her. “Shoot.”

“Before she left, Madge told me something,” Katniss whispers, leaning in so he can hear her better. “She told me she loved you.”

Gale snaps away from Katniss, mouth hanging open, as his heart thundered in his chest.

“She-she loves me?” Gale breathes, certain that this was a bittersweet dream, or a sick lie.

Katniss nods. “Since she was 13.”

Gale opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to speak, but he just flounders dumbly as he feels as if he’s floating.

Madge loves him. _MADGE loves him!_ He was her fella! He loved her, and she loved him! 

“So make sure you come back,” Katniss says warningly, though there’s a small smile on her face. “You got a girl waiting for you.”

“I think I have something of great interest to you both,” Heavensbee suddenly says, walking towards them and effectively ruining the moment.

“Can you fuck off?” Gale asks irritably. “We’re in the middle of something here.”

Heavensbee glares at him but holds up his wrist. “Just watch, you brat.”

The fat gamemaker presses a button, and suddenly, a video hologram of Madge is staring at him. She’s dirty, bloodied, and looks exhausted, but her eyes are determined as she stares into the camera.

“My name is Madge Undersee,” her static-y voice spoke up. “And thanks to the efforts of our comrades in District 5, rebel forces have been able to take over District 8!”

The camera moves from her face to a burning fort, and the shouts of men cheering her are heard in the background.

“Just like the Mockingjay promised, if we burn, you burn with us,” Madge warns, the camera pointing back at her face. She kisses three of her fingertips and holds it to the audience. “To a free Panem!”

The hologram disappears.

“Isn’t it great!” Heavensbee gushes. “We’re sending a craft right over, can’t afford to lose a girl like that!”

Gale feels like bashing his head for not sending a craft sooner, but he’ll take it at this point; he just wants her back safe.

“Now you really have to come back,” Katniss reminds him.

Gale pulls her in for a hug. He doesn’t want her to think he doesn’t care about her now that he loves Madge. “I do.”

_I will_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the longest chapter yet. It was a hard decision to take a break from Madge's POV, but I felt it was important to get into Gale's head, at least once. I hope I was able to write him true to his character, and that his slow, but profound realization of his feelings for Madge was realistic.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


	23. In my blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: The beginning of this chapter does include graphic surgical description. Please read with caution if this triggers you.

“Doctor,” a frantic voice calls out, despite Madge’s countless reminders that she’s not a doctor. “Something is wrong!”

“Just a minute!” Madge calls back, as she finishes wrapping a bandage across the eyes of a young man, recently blinded by a shotgun pellet. He whimpers miserably below her.

“Hang in there,” Madge whispers to him, running a tender hand through his filthy hair before standing up.

It seemed that Madge was still reaping the privileges associated with being the Mayor’s daughter. It was, after all, through her own Father, that she knew of every District’s underground sewage system, and after the building next to where the new makeshift hospital had been relocated blew up, Madge wondered if they’d be safer if they went underground. When she had floated the idea to Paylor, the woman had froze. Turns out that 8’s canals are man-made, and their waters are routed through the sewers.

After sending down a crew, they came up with the confirmation that yes, there were underground tunnels that ran relatively fresh water to be pumped into the canals.

It’s less than ideal, with the wounded on one side of the water, and the dead on the other, the chances of infection having only doubled, but there just weren’t any other options.

“What’s going on?” Madge asks the young woman who had called for her, as she kneels down next to the heavily pregnant woman who was writhing in pain. Above them, a bomb falls, and the ceiling shakes as dust falls on them.

“My-she’s my sister,” the woman chokes. “She’s been in labor since yesterday, and she can’t do it anymore.”

“Let me see,” Madge tries to say in a comforting voice, but her smile comes out tight. Ducking her head below the woman’s skirt, Madge sees that she’s more or less dilated to where she’s supposed to be, but when she shines her (dying) flashlight, does Madge finally see what’s the holdup.

“It’s a breech,” Madge announces tensely to the sisters. The younger one just looks confused, while the older one-the one in labor, cries out loud.

“Make it stop,” she wails. “I can’t….”

“I asked you to monitor her cervix, has it been expanding these past few hours?” Madge tries to patiently ask the younger sister.

She looks frantic. “I-I think so?” she sniffles. “It doesn’t look a lot wider than it did two hours ago, but I’m not sure.”

Madge closes her eyes and tries to keep the dread down.

“It’s a footling breech,” Madge explains to the older sister. “It means your baby is coming out feet first.”

“Is it going to be ok?” the soon-to-be mom asks desperately, as her face shines with a fine layer of sweat. “Is it?!”

Madge tries to hide her grimace. “A vaginal delivery can be extremely dangerous, especially since I don’t know the exact size of your baby, but we don’t have the proper tools for a cesarian.”

A quiet resolve settles on her pained face. “Do the cesarian. Do whatever you must to save it.”

“Elena,  _ no!” _ the younger sister weeps, throwing herself onto her sister’s chest. “You can’t!”

“You have to understand Miss, I don’t have any more sedatives and whatever painkillers I have won’t do anything if I cut you open,” Madge tries to explain. “If you go with a c-section, you will most likely...not survive.”

“I know,” Elena breathes, before closing her eyes tiredly. “Do it. Save my baby.”

“Howdy, Doc!”

Madge looks over and sees a pair of the few paramedics 8 had; a boy and girl around her age, descending the stairs with a stretcher between them.

“Got another gunshot to the side,” the girl says as they come closer. “My feller ain’t lookin’ too swell.”

Madge wishes she could just hit pause on all the chaos around her and just sink into a deep deep sleep for a month, that’s how exhausted she is.

“Jenny!” Madge calls to one of her ‘assistants’. “Bring my surgery tools, and make sure they’re disinfected.”

Her paramedics place the shot man next to Elena. As said, his right-side is totally stained with blood. A lot of blood.

Madge looks to the girl paramedic since she’s closest. “Turn him on his left side, and take a clean rag from the bin and do not remove pressure from the wound.” she turns to the boy. She’s never really paid attention to him before, so only now does she notice the scar that runs along the left side of his face, disappearing below his jaw.

Biting her lip as she tried to think of what to do next, Madge looked between her two high-risk patients. If she left Elena alone, both she and her baby would die from distress, but if she left the shot man alone, he’d bleed out.

“The tools, doc,” Jenny hands her bag. “We’re out of disinfectant, by the way.”

Madge nods, and before dismissing her instructs, “If little Jimmy’s wound has stopped bleeding, stint his leg. If Rayon’s fever hasn’t broken, keep his forehead rag cool, and apply burn ointment on Twill’s arm. Also, get someone to do a bandage round, and someone else for water. Check Carrie’s temperature as well, and call Nial over.”

“Actually, I need you to switch with her,” Madge tells the scarred paramedic. To the pigtailed paramedic, she says, “I need your help delivering this baby.”

“I’ve never delivered a baby before,” pigtails says hesitantly.

Madge rifles through her medic bag, searching for the proper instruments. “Neither have I.”

“Please,” Elena’s sister begs, finally getting off of her sister’s chest. “Please, there has to be another way!”

Madge ignores her as Niall comes over. “Yeah, Doc?”

“Have you given blood, yet?” Madge asks as she pulls out a small machine. She’s had to ask nearly all of her assistants to donate, but she has to be careful, if she takes blood from them for a second time in less than eight weeks, they could die.

“No Doc,” Niall answers, and Madge nearly sags in relief.

“Come here then,” Madge says quickly. “I’m  gonna hook you up to this little pump here, alright? It will convert your blood type to the required one, if need be.”

Niall nods solemnly. “Got it.”

Carefully, she plunges a needle into his arm, adjusting the pump that will filter it. Once it’s set to the right pressure, she takes the end of the tube which is attached to another needle, and carefully inserts it into the shot man’s arm.

“Is this safe?” Scarface asks incredulously, as his eye dart from Niall’s arm to the small, now whirring machine.

“Yes,” Madge nods. “It’s advanced 13 tech. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

With the shot man temporarily taken care of, Madge hasno further time to waste. Hitching up Elena’s shirt, she stared at the ballooned stomach and tried to keep down the overwhelming panic.

“Her pulse is low, doc,” Pigtails speaks up, hand on Elena’s neck.

“Right,” Madge says, talking mostly to herself. “We need to do this. I need to do this.”

“Please,” Elena’s sister cries, now curled up in a ball by her sister’s head. “Save my sister…”

Just to be sure, Madge ducks under her skirt again. There really was no way a breech baby could come out through that much dilation….but Elena won’t survive the pain without any morphling.

If she had even a second, Madge would have laughed at the irony of her life. How, for almost it’s entirety, she had hated morphling more than anything in this world, and now she needed it more than anything.

With no other choice, Madge grabs the scalpel and begins the incision.

It seems that Elena has enough energy to begin screaming and thrashing, and Pigtails has to hold her down as Madge cuts through the skin, tissue, muscle, and then finally, her uterus. There’s so much more blood than she had expected, and if she wasn’t so focused, she probably would have thrown up from how gruesome the scene is.

Madge’s hands shake uncontrollably as she cuts through the uterine tissue, almost translucent in how enlarged it was-she could clearly see the baby’s outline. Once she cuts through, her frontside is soaked in the sudden spill of fluid, but she pays no mind to any of this; not to the lightheadedness from losing blood, not Elena’s screams, her sister’s wailing, the blood and other fluids- all Madge is aware of is the infant boy she holds in her hands.

For a moment, the entire world is still as she holds the grayish-red babe in her hands. And then he cries. Pitiful, tiny, squeaky, but a cry.

“He’s alive,” Madge chokes, unable to stop her own tears. “He’s a healthy baby boy!”

“Give him,” Elena breathes, eyes still wide from traumatic shock. Madge nods and doesn’t bother wrapping him in one of the rags Jenny brought. There are several things she should be doing: cutting the umbilical cord, cleaning the baby, saving Elena, but all Madge can do is watch as the infant is placed on his mother’s bosom, his skin growing pinker and cries growing stronger as a sorrowful peace settles on his mother’s bone-white face.

“Leo,” Elena sighs. “Be brave...like a lion…”

“Elena,” her sister whimpers, but her eyes have closed.

“I don’t feel a pulse, Doc,” Pigtails informs her in a watery voice, even though she doesn’t need the confirmation. Madge has been around death enough these past few days to know that Elena is gone forever.

Turning her back on the deceased mother, Madge removes the needle from Niall’s arm, hardly remembering to quickly rinse her hands with a tiny bar of soap. It’s not like it anything was sterile, anyways.

Scarface helps her, but mostly she flies on autopilot as she cauterizes the internal bleeding, removes the bullet fragments, and stitches the wound closed. Her flashlight had died halfway through, and in the dim light of the sewer, it was more than likely that she had missed micro-fragments of the bullet, and if the man survived that, then he most likely would die from his infected wound treated by non-sterile hands.

And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about any of this.

“Doc,” Scarface says hesitantly, reaching up to gently touch her shoulder. “You look kinda pale, maybe you should lie down…”

“I’m fine,” her voice rings hollow to her own ears, but it’s true. She’s been running on about half-hour units of sleep every few hours. She needs to do her part. She needs to take care of these people. There just isn’t anyone else that can.

“You just delivered a baby and stopped a guy from bleeding out,” Pigtails says sternly. “You need to kick it down a notch.”

“Let me just see Leo,” Madge whispers dazedly, stumbling over to where the sister sat vacantly, infant in her arms, staring at her dead sister across the water.

She folds down to her knees next to the sister, who pays her no mind as she takes Leo from her.

He’s still wrinkly and red, but with all the gunk cleared off of him, Madge can truly say he’s a beautiful baby.

“Has he had any formula?” Madge asks the sister.

“Half a bottle,” she whispers. “We’re waiting for the wet nurse…”

Madge frowns and looks down at little Leo, who at the moment, looks so content in her arms. She wishes he had been born in a world where his mom could still hold him, and he could drink all the milk his little tummy could hold.

“Hi Leo,” Madge says in a trembling voice. “I know I’m practically a stranger, but for some reason, my heart has already decided to love you. Is that strange?”

“I’m so...so sorry about your mom,” Madge whispers, throat closing as tears well up in her eyes once more. Leo stirs in her arms and makes a tiny squeaking noise before quieting down again.“But you’re a strong boy...I can see that already. So I need you to be brave, just like how your mom asked, because pretty soon, this war will be over! And you’ll live a happy happy life.”

The sister holds out her arms, and Madge gives her back Leo.

Standing up, Madge looks around her “hospital”.

These people need more. And if they don’t get it, they’ll die.

“Hey,” Madge calls out to her two paramedics. “Can you take me up somewhere where I can get some reception?”

They exchange a glance with each other.

“Sure…” Pigtails finally replies. “But then you owe me one, ya hear?”

Madge just shrugs. She isn’t really in a place for negotiations at the moment.

Can you hold the stretcher, Doc?” Scarface asks as he slings off his rifle and cocks it. Madge nods and tucks it under her arm, surprised at its sturdy weight. “Molotov, flank her.”

Molotov-or Pigtails-nods and adjusts her own gun. “Stick close to us Doc, and if you hear a craft- duck.”

Madge nods and follows Molotov out, Scarface close behind her. It’s night out, so her eyes don’t have to adjust much to the light, but the fresh air is refreshing, even if it’s heavily coated with dust and smoke. That momentary relief of going aboveground after nearly a week of being under is squashed, however, rather quickly, as Madge takes in her surroundings. 8 has never looked more 12.

“Sightseein’ can come later, Doc,” Molotov teases tonelessly, as she walks on Madge’s left, and Scarface on her right.

They take on a brisk pace, to where, Madge doesn’t know, but they pass countless buildings that are totally crumbled, and more than once, she catches sight of a burnt human appendage-totally black and completely burnt, sticking out from the rubble. It distresses her more than is healthy, and Madge struggles to remain vigilant as her mind reminds her that her own two parents had died in an identical fashion.

It’s when they pass a building with a large enough hole blown into it that its interior is visible, Madge sees a baby’s crib; the white wood stained with blood, standing desolate and broken in a black room.

Unable to continue, she stops and covers her face with her free hand, trying and failing to keep her breathing regulated as her chest constricts.

Had Dante slept in a crib like that? Were her parent's corpses still charred or were they skeletons yet? Were the Hawthornes all safe? Was she just delaying her own fate?

“Hey, Doc, you gotta keep moving,” Scarface says gently. “I know it’s-”

“Caps!” Molotov interrupts with a scream as suddenly the sound of gunfire fills the air. Madge hardly has any time to react before she’s shoved to the ground behind a particularly large pile of rubble, Scarface on top of her.

When she opens her eyes, he’s so close that their noses are nearly brushing, and at this distance, she can see that his eyes are a light tea color.

Just as quickly as he had pushed her down, he gets off of her and peeks around the rubble before beginning to shoot.

“Molotov,” he shouts to the girl who has somehow made it into the building with the crib, also shooting at the Peacekeepers. “Take the Doctor to the clock!”

“But Brodeur!” Molotov tries to protest, but Brodeur cuts her off with another round of fire with his gun.

“Go!”

Madge keeps her eyes on Brodeur, who doesn’t flinch as a bullet flies just inches above his head until Molotov is beside her, tugging her arm.

They both run with the empty stretcher between them. They can still hear gunfire coming from multiple directions, and more than once do they have to duck and cover from overhead crafts which, thankfully, don’t bomb them specifically.

Finally, they reach the ‘Clock’ which is actually a Clocktower that’s maintained good structural integrity when compared to the rest of 8.

“You can leave the stretcher down here,” Molotov pants, winded from all their running. “Follow me.”

Molotov leads her up creaky, wooden stairs which end in an open space of gears; a large hole crossed with the metal linings of a clock design on all four walls. One one of the walls, next to the large clock, is a spray-painted Mockingjay.

Ducking under one of the many pipes, Molotov sits beneath the painted bird

“Will he be ok?” Madge asks hesitantly. “Brodeur, I mean.”

Molotov doesn’t answer, just shrugs. In the moonlight, her black hair looks almost blue.

“They gave me a communicuff,” Madge says, just to break the silence. “I turned it off to save its battery, but I think I can contact 13 with it.”

Molotov raises a brow appraisingly and Madge takes that as a sign that it’s ok to sit next to her. “How does it work?”

“I’m not sure,” Madge admits embarrassedly, fiddling with the cuff as it power on. “I’m not very good with technology.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Molotov says tiredly, resting her head against the brick and closing her eyes. Pretty soon she’s snoring.

“Ok, let’s see,” Madge says under her breath. “Main menu...then contacts? Ok, Boggs has one contact. Password? I don’t have a password!”

“Hey.”

Madge actually screams at the sound of the foreign voice, quickly awakening Molotov, who fumbles blindly for her gun.

“It’s me!” Brodeur hisses as he steps out of the shadows, his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

“Anthony, you ugly son of a gun,” Molotov grumbles crankily before crossing her arms and closing her eyes again.

Madge looks at him as he sits criss-cross from them. “Your name is Anthony?”

Anthony nods with a small smile. “And she’s-”

“Don’t!” Molotov warns, eyes flying open. “You say my name and I’ll say yours.”

“I already said mine,” Anthony says with a roll of his eyes before looking back at Madge. “She’s Lacey.”

“And he,” Lacey says dramatically. “Is  _ Tony-bunny.” _

Madge can’t help but giggle at that, and giggles even more as Anthony’s brown skin flushes. The boy seems to be made up of several shades of brown; his skin the darkest, his hair the lightest, and his eyes somewhere in between the two.

“My supervisor was this creepy old lady,” Anthony explains with a wince. “She gave the worst nicknames.”

“Oh shut up,” Lacey rolls her eyes. “Tony-bunny here got moved to storefront while the rest of us were left holed up in the factories ‘cause all the gals find him hotter’n a hot dog on a hot plate.”

“How old are you two?” Madge asks, looking between them. They seem to be the same age.

“I’m 17,” Lacey answers. “Tony-bunny is 19.”

Madge nods before frowning, catching up on the information. “Wait, I thought the legal age to work is 18?”

“Ha!” Lacey exclaims bitterly. “Tony-bunny, how old were you when you started working?”

“Seven,” Anthony answers in a hard voice, staring out in-between the spaces of the clock’s hands.

“What?” Madge gasps incredulously, trying to imagine little Posy working in a factory in two years.

“You heard him,” Lacey sneers. “I was six. They need our little hands to reach in and pull out whatever’s got the machines stuck.”

Madge shakes her head, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find something to say. Did the Capital’s cruelty know no bound?

Leaning forward, Madge takes their hands in hers.

“I am so sorry,” Madge says quietly, as tears begin to gather in her eyes. To be honest, she kinda felt as if she were going insane: one second she was depressed, the next afraid for her life, then she was back to a giggly school girl, only to become a worn down adult all over again. The real horror of war, she realizes, is not what it does to your body, but to your mind. “But that’s why we fight, right? To make sure what we’ve faced is never heard of again.”

Molotov squeezes her hand and Anthony just stares at her, a misty look in his eyes.

Letting go of their hands, Madge returns to fiddling with her communicuff. “If only I can get this to work…”

“Can I see?” Anthony asks quietly, holding out his hand. A bit hesitantly, Madge places her hand in his as he begins playing with the gadget.

“Ships are on patrol,” Lacey speaks up from their side, looking out the window. “Caps must be changing shifts.”

_ “Identification please,” _ a static-y voice speaks. Madge looks to her communicuff in shock-Anthony had done it!

“This is Ophelia,” Madge uses the code name Boggs had given her. “District ID: 1316642.”

There’s a pause, then, “Identified. Reason for call?”

“Request for supplies, particularly medical,” Madge speaks into the cuff. “We’re nearly out of everything.”

A longer pause. “I’m sorry soldier, but there are strict orders that 8’s monthly shipments are to only have tools of defense.”

“Tools of defense?” Madge repeats angrily. “How can 8 defend itself if everyone drops dead from preventable infection?”

“I’m sorry,” they repeat. “But these orders are carefully detailed.”

The transmission ends.

“Ugh!” Madge seethes, tempted to punch a wall. “What a-what a jerk!” In hindsight, she couldn’t be surprised. Of course, 13 kept its finite medical supplies for its population; they could care less if an 8 child died, they just needed 8 rebels to keep on firing their guns.

“It’s ok,” Anthony tries to awkwardly placate her. “You did what you could. We’ll figure something out.”

“But is it enough,” Lacey says under her breath. This makes Madge stand up.

“It’s not,” Madge answers Lacey’s rhetorical question, fists clenching with determination. “I need to speak with Paylor.”

Lacey’s green eyes narrow as she regards Madge critically before shrugging. “Tony, you get her.”

“Wha-me?”Anthony asks indignantly. "You get her!"

“Like hell!” Lacey huffs angrily. “You owe me for covering your perimeter last week, anyway.”

“Yeah but I…” Anthony falters as he thinks hard. “My Dad! I told him I’d meet him here in half hour. I can’t leave now.”

Lacey glares at him before pulling off her boot and chucking it straight at his head.

“Dang nabbit, woman!” Anthony curses as he clutches his forehead. Madge just watches with amusement as Lacey hops over and pulls her boot back on.

“Don’t die,” Anthony calls out to her retreating back, but Lacey just waves him off. Madge sits back down and tries to program into the communicuff the list of supplies the hospital needed so she wouldn’t forget later.

She’s still trying to work the infernal contraption when Anthony speaks again.

“I saw you in the video,” he blurts, as a traced a finger down the seam of his pants. “The one with the Mockingjay,” he clarifies sheepishly.

Madge nods and gives him a small, awkward smile. “Yeah, that was me.”

“That’s why we were all real surprised when we saw you had stayed,” Anthony tells her, now cleaning his rifle with a hankie. “Cause. Ya know, you’re like a celebrity and all.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” Madge refutes uncomfortably. “I’m just trying to help the people.”

Anthony nods, still not looking at her. “So...do you have a, uh-feller?”

“Huh,” Madge says. Anthony looks up at her quickly. “I just realized, in 12, we say fella. In the Capital, at least on tv, they say fellow. Interesting how accents differ between the districts.”

“Um, yeah…” Anthony agrees quietly, a weird expression on his face. Madge has forgotten about his actual question when he speaks again. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?” Madge asks with a frown, before remembering. “Oh! I...it’s-it’s complicated.”

Now that he’s inadvertently brought him up, Madge is struck with a fierce longing for Gale. She wants so badly to be with him again that she can’t help the sigh that escapes her lips as her mind recalls his eyes, his arms, his voice….

Anthony looks extremely confused. “Is that some kind of 12 slang?”

“No,” Madge chuckles tiredly. “I love him, and he...loves someone else.”

Anthony makes a strangled sort of noise in the back of his throat. “He must be blind, deaf,  _ and  _ dumb to choose anyone else over you.”

“If you knew the other girl, I don’t think you’d say that,” Madge grumbles, going back to her communicuff.

“Well, he sounds like an asshole,” Anthony says gruffly. “Excuse my language, but it sounds to me like you’re better off without him.”

The deja vu hits her so hard she nearly sways.

“It doesn’t matter,” Madge finally manages to say, forcing away her all-consuming longing for Gale. “This is no time for romance, anyways.”

Anthony quiets after that, for which Madge is grateful. Her head aches terribly, and she knows she’s forgetting things to add to her list but all her mind is giving her are blanks.

Her frustration is quickly replaced by apprehension when nearby voices are heard.

“Stay put,” Anthony instructs her quietly, cocking his rifle. Madge nods and he and slowly descends down the stairs.

_ Breathe. Everything is ok. Everything is ok. Everything is- _

“You called?”

Madge’s head snaps to the side, and sure enough, there stands Commander Paylor.

“Commander!” Madge exclaims, quickly jumping to her feet and saluting. At her questioning look, she drops the salute with a cringe.

“Commander,” an unfamiliar voice speaks up. Paylor turns around and Madge finds a man that looks strikingly familiar to Anthony standing at the entrance of the room. “I’ll be taking my son out to the first east quadrant if that’s alright with you.”

Paylor nods and the man leaves. Madge suddenly feels nervous being alone with such a powerful woman, but Paylor just makes her way over to where Madge stands and plops down, resting her back against the wall.

“Well?” Paylor asks tiredly, looking up to stare at her.

“Right,” Madge says, sitting down so it’s less weird. “The hospital is running very low on critically needed supplies, and 13 shot down my request for more. Is there any place in 8 where your forces could get some?”

“If there were, we would have emptied the place by now,” Paylor sighs. “The best-stocked place in the District is also the most guarded. Peacekeepers keep everything at their base.”

“Where is that?” Madge asks with a sinking heart. Paylor scoots over so that she can look out the clock and gestures for Madge to come forward as well.

“Do you see that canal?” Paylor points down and a little to the right. Madge catches sight of the water between two buildings. “Several of them run through the District. We’re actually out in a desert and in the summer, temperatures run so high that our factories are in constant danger of overheating. So about thirty years ago, the Capital caved and dug in the canals, so we could reroute the water to our machines.”

“We don’t know where the water comes from, or where it goes,” Paylor continues. “But they all merge in the middle of the District, where the Fort is.”

“The Fort?” Madge echoes confusedly.

Paylor nods. “Totally impenetrable, it can only be accessed by boat. We’ve tried hijacking a few, but the cannons on them are too powerful.”

“All supplies are airdropped straight onto the Fort’s roof, and that’s where the Cap’s armory is as well,” Paylor explains. “We’ve been able to take over every stronghold in the District but that.”

“And it’s absolutely impossible to get in?” Madge asks in a tiny voice.

“Damn near,” Paylor sighs. “They’ve poisoned the waters with this flesh-eating bacteria, so we can’t swim to it, and like I said with the boats, we’ve destroyed many, but we’ve yet to capture one, and that’s the only way to get in.”

Madge feels like there are bugs crawling all over her skin as she digests this information.

“I’ve been here for only a week, and I feel so helpless,” Madge admits pathetically, hugging her knees. “I can’t help but admire your tenacity…”

Paylor barks out a laugh. “Tenacity? Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s certainly not the biggest reason why I’m still fighting.”

“Then...what is?” Madge asks, puzzled.

“We depend on each other,” Paylor says quietly. “And the Capital depends on us. For years, we’ve let them steal the fruits of our labor, and accepted the humiliating wages. It just didn’t make sense that I stitched luxurious clothes by hand for hours on end, but didn’t own a single article of clothing myself that wasn’t threadbare.”

Madge thinks of the coal miners who dug out the very fuel of this country but lived in cold houses.

“I know without a doubt that we will win this rebellion because as long as we refuse to comply with their system, they’re absolutely optionless,” Paylor nods, almost as if she’s talking to herself. “For years, they’ve scoffed at us lowly laborers, not seeing that if we don’t labor no more, their very lives will fall apart.”

“He’d go into the mines at the risk of his own life, and come out with coal,” now Madge is the one speaking to herself. “If one piece of coal sold for five cents...he’d be lucky if he got one whole cent.”

“And who did that remaining four cents go to?” Paylor asks. At the same time, both she and Madge answer:

_ "The Capital.” _

“I’ve been so blind,” Madge whispers as she clutches at her hair. She feels fevered as her mind opens up to a new form of consciousness she had been previously ignorant to.It’s as if every concept she’s held to be as true as been set on fire, and through the clearing smoke, can she see the actual truth.

Everything was so simple now. The more they worked, and the less they were paid, the more money the Capital pocketed. The same money was used to train peacekeepers and build extensive Hunger Game arenas, all of which ensured their compliance in this twisted setup. The more compliant they were, the more ostentatious the lives of Capitalites became.

“But you see now,” Paylor clasps her shoulder gently. “As long as us laborers know and fight for what is right, the Capital can never win.”

Madge looks up to stare at the older woman in open admiration. The only other person Madge knew who was as wise as she had been her Father.

Paylor smiles at her before she frowns slightly.

“What?” Madge asks quickly, suddenly self-conscious. She didn’t have snot dried on her nostrils, did she?

“You look familiar,” Paylor notes with narrowed eyes.

“Oh,” Madge laughs awkwardly. “I was in the video with-”

“I know that,” Paylor interrupts. “I recognized you then, too.”

Madge suddenly realizes that Commander Paylor seemed to be around the same age as her Mother- if she were still alive.

“My Aunt,” Madge begins. “She was in the Quarter Quell.”

Paylor’s eyes widen. “So was my twin brother.”

Hoping to God Aunt Maysilee hadn’t murdered Paylor’s brother, Madge quickly adds, “She was my Mom’s twin too!”

To her relief, Paylor just smiles sadly. “The curse of the twins, huh?” Suddenly, her smile grows brighter. "Well I guess that explains you then."

"Sorry?" Madge says, unsure of what to make from her comment.

"Why you're here," Paylor explains patiently. "You're a fighter-it runs in your blood."

Made can't help but smile at that, but before she can reply, they're interrupted.

“Commander Paylor!” a frantic woman’s voice calls from downstairs. Both Madge and Paylor leap up, but before they can rush down, the woman has already run up.

“Five’s cut the power!” the woman practically shouts jovially. “The Capital and every other District is in total blackout!”

“They’ll be in total disarray now that they can’t communicate internally!” Paylor shares in the joy. “Gather the field overseers, we need to regroup and reorganize a new strategy immediately.”

_ Blackout...can’t communicate….disarray? _

“Commander Paylor,” Madge gasps. “I know how we can get into the Fort!”

Despite their heart-to-heart, Paylor looks at her incredulously. “You do?”

Unbeknownst to Madge, she speaks the same words her Father had thought when he accepted his title of Mayor of District 12.

“If you can’t beat them, join them.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: So sorry about the long wait. This has been one of my worst writer's block. Ever.
> 
> Second: I wanted Madge's stay in 8 to be just one chapter, but it would have been WAY too long, so I was forced to split it up. I knooow you all are desperate for the Gadge reunion, but I promise-it's coming ;)
> 
> Third: The events in this chapter is what really inspired me to write this story. I couldn't clear my head of rebel Madge, and I've been waiting to write this chapter since before this story was even written. I hope you guys share in my love for badass Madge


	24. The Fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for every kudo, every comment. I write because of you.

Madge wishes Gale was here.

While he was notorious for scrambling her thoughts into a jumbled mess, he was equally as talented in sorting that disaster into something comprehensible.

But as she sat in a cramped room with Paylor and her top men, her mouth struggles to translate her ideas. Not only could Gale have helped her hone in on what she was thinking, but he’d be able to articulate it perfectly as well. She never did like having many eyes on her.

“We have to break into the fort,” Madge repeats for the third time, tongue heavy in her mouth as she was stared down mercilessly. “With their communications cut, now is our time to strike. We need the supplies in there.”

“How?” an older man asks sneeringly. He was nicer earlier, but it seems he’s run out of patience for her, which makes the bundle of anxiety in her stomach tighten further. “We can’t just swing on in.”

“Calm yourself, Frank,” Paylor speaks up. “She’s just a girl, not a trained strategist.”

Madge stares at the dying kerosene lantern, feeling heavy with uselessness as the adults talked amongst themselves.

Someone nudges her shoulder. Looking up, Madge finds that Anthony has left his seat by his Father in the back, and had made his way up to her.

“Ignore Frank,” he whispers to her. “He’s always been an old fart.”

Madge gives him a weak smile, before looking back at the yellow flame. Why couldn’t she get anything concrete out? It’s like her mind refused to collaborate fully with her, always leaving her halfway there.

“We’re wasting our time here,” Frank snaps again. “Paylor, I hate to say it, but our little showgirl has us chasing a dust cloud.”

“That’s it!” Madge gasps, not even minding when everyone turns to look at her. “We’ll use me as bait!”

Paylor immediately shakes her head. “That’s simply too dangerous-”

“Please hear me out,” Madge nearly begs. When Paylor hesitantly nods, Madge continues. “I remember back in 12, Peacekeepers spoke to each other with a device in their helmets. Is it the same here?”

“Yes,” Paylor confirms slowly.

“They rely on radio stations to broadcast their signals,” Madge explains hurriedly, wishing Al was here so she could give him a hug. “With their power out, they’ll have to rely on communicating manually.”

“Where are you going with this?” Paylor finally asks.

“If we could get two or three rebels to capture some peacekeepers, they’d be unable to alert anyone,” Madge continues, adrenaline finally making her brain function properly again. “Taking their uniforms, we could easily pass off as them, and with communications to whatever their headquarters are down, they’d have no way to verify their identities.”

“You want my soldiers to turn you in,” Paylor finishes for her, the final picture finally forming in her mind.

Madge nods in confirmation. “Their last stronghold is the fort, which is where they’d take me. So a few of us will wave a boat down, letting them know they’ve arrested me- who is easily recognizable- and once we’re on the boat, we’ll capture it for ourselves.”

“If they can take the boat over, they can load more of us on,” Anthony’s father adds helpfully.

“There’s still no way a group that small can take over the fort,” Frank argues, though thoughtfully.

“Maybe we don’t have to take it by force,” Paylor suddenly says. “Our factories are brimmed with gallons of industrial chemicals. All of us have been told from birth which mixtures are deadly.”

Molotov suddenly rushes into the room, ignoring how everyone (minus Madge) reaches for a weapon.

“Commander Paylor, do I have just the cocktail for you,” she informs with a large grin.

  


* * *

 

 

With limited manpower and the fact the trio already knew each other, it was unanimously decided that Anthony and Lacey would be the ones to “turn” Madge in.

Anthony had decided all on his own that he would be their makeshift leader, however.

“Now listen up,” he begins as they all lay crouched behind a building that sat atop of the hospital. “We’ll be cutting through rebel-held territory, so we should be relatively safe. They probably won’t risk sending out large units since their numbers aren’t the best at the moment either, so when we- dagnabbit Denim! What are you doing here?”

Madge looks behind her and sees a young boy scuttling to catch up to them.

“Sir reporting for duty sir!” he salutes clumsily as he shifts his rifle from one arm to the other. His face was of a young boy’s, no older than 12, but he had the height of a 16-year-old.

“Where’s your sister, Denim?” Lacey sighs tiredly. “You know she won’t want you out here.”

“She busted her leg M’am,” Denim answers earnestly. “This is her rifle, see? She knows I’m here.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Anthony counters darkly, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Little boy,” Madge tries gently, trying to evoke authority from their age gap. “It’s dangerous out here. You should go back and keep your sister safe.”

Denim puffs out his chest. “I can’t M’am.”

“Why is that?” Madge asks tightly, disturbed by the thought of a child-soldier.

“By bullet or ballot,” he explains proudly. “Our day will come. That’s what my Ma always said. I can’t just sit and crochet now that the day _has_ come.”

“We’re wasting time just sitting here,” Anthony snaps. “It’ll probably be more dangerous sending you back alone anyways.”

Billy nods ecstatically. “I’ll be a good fighter, sir!”

Despite his enthusiasm, Madge’s stomach clenches to see such a young, sweet boy so ready for violence.

“When we’re out there, you follow my every order, you hear me?” Anthony instructs him sternly. Turning to Madge, his face softens considerably. “In case anything happens to one of us, you need to know how to use a rifle.”

Madge purses her lips together and nods. “Alright.”

“You reload the cartridge here,” he explains carefully, pointing to what she needs to know. “Always aim down the line site. Never shoot unless you have a clear target, and always,  _always_ remain vigilant.”

Glaring at Billy once more, Anthony points to his scar. “See this? This is what happens when you don’t pay no attention, you hear?”

“One more thing,” Lacey adds quietly. “You have a choice out there. Kill, or be killed.”

Denim opens his mouth to reply, when a loud mechanical rumbling is heard by all four of them.

“The hell..?” Anthony mutters, getting up quickly to peer around the corner of the building they were hiding behind.

“Oh fuck.”

“What is it?” Lacey asks quickly, jumping up as well.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Anthony repeats, face pale as he turns around. “I- they sent a _tank._ ”

“Oh my God,” Lacey whispers, expression ashen. “But why here?”

“I know why,” Madge speaks up, entire frame trembling as the realization that she was truly a _soldier_ now sinking in like claws. “To cave in the hospital.”

“We gotta stop them!” Denim cries out, looking between them frantically.

“Listen to me because I can only say this once,” Anthony says calmly, though there’s a hardly concealed madness in his eyes. “Lacey is our best shot, leave the tank to her. When I say run, you _run_ to those trenches over there. Got it?”

Both Madge and Denim nod.

“Stay low,” Anthony continues, before looking upwards for a moment. “And may God have mercy on us.”

“Let’s go,” Lacey says in a firm voice. Anthony glances at her and nods before moving quickly.

Heart beating so quickly it felt like her ribs were being rattled, Madge follows Anthony, Lacey and Denim through the tiny alleys between the buildings before Anthony stops again.

Taking a deep breath, Anthony peers behind him until he’s looking at her.

“Run!”

Anthony has led them away enough so that they’re about a mile away from the incoming tank and the peacekeepers that accompany it, and only 10 feet away from the trenches dug into the ground, but the second they come out of hiding, it’s like they’re being showered in bullets.

Madge runs faster than she ever has in her entire life, mind frozen in a kind of violent terror she’s never truly experienced before as her body shuts down everything except the blood pumping into her legs and the muscles that carried her forward.

As soon as she’s close enough, she flings herself into the dug-out cavity; the harsh collision of earth against her body almost sweet with its relief.

“Stay low!” Anthony shouts as he begins to crawl on his stomach. “And kill these fuckers!”

Lacey hurries past her the same way Anthony is moving, and Madge glances behind her to see where Denim is. He’s lying on his stomach, face bleached from horror.

As bullets continue to rain over her head, Madge crawls over to the boy, muscles already protesting.

“Give me your gun, Denim,” Madge tries to request calmly, but it comes out shrill and frantic.

“N-no!” he stutters. “It’s our day. I won’t let it pass!”

“Denim!” Madge shouts, but he ignores her, sitting up and aiming his gun.

“I got ‘em!” Denim cheers as he ducks once more. “There are only 10 peacekeepers, and Anthony already took down two. We got this!”

“Denim, please,” Madge begs. She considers jumping him, but that could make the gun accidentally go off. “This isn’t safe, give me your gun and I’ll shoot for you, ok?”

Like the child he is, Denim sticks his tongue out at her. He springs up again just as Madge makes a grab for him and hollers once more.

A moment later, he’s shot in the head.

Madge can only watch as he falls back, eyes blank and a small, bullet-sized hole in the middle of his forehead.

She’s lost a part of her humanity. She realizes this as she simply turns away from his dead body and begins to crawl away. He deserved tears and mourning, and Madge wished she could give it to him, wished she could hold him tight if even for a moment.

But if she’s human, she’ll be killed.

So like a robot, she crawls towards Lacey. She would have grabbed Denim’s gun, but he had dropped it outside of the trench, and Madge was too cowardly to try and fetch it.

She’s nearly reached Lacey when she hears a large _boom_ and the whole earth blows up.

Coughing desperately for air, Madge rubs the dirt out of her eyes and peers behind her, where a tank shell had just exploded.

It seems the Capital had enough to spare for them _and_ the hospital.

“You alright?” Lacey shouts as Madge draws nearer.

 _Alright_ was a very strong word.

“I’m fine,” Madge shouts back. “Can you get the tank?”

“There’s only one way to stop a tank,” Lacey explains breathlessly as she suddenly sinks down, just barely missing a bullet. “There’s a small glass panel that the operator sees out of. The only way to break through is to hit it in the same spot twice.”

“Lacey!” Anthony yells from further down the trench. “They’re nearly here!”

“Don’t worry!” Lacey assures him, getting into position once more. “There’s only one of them lef-”

The tank shoots once more, and its impact is strong enough that through the dirt Madge can see the trench dug in front of the one they’re currently in.

As Madge struggles to find oxygen that isn’t layered in dirt, an all too familiar _zipping_ noise is heard.

“Hovercraft!” Lacey barely screams before the craft begins shooting

All Madge can do is lie on her stomach and cover her head with her hands as bullets are dropped all around her, the angry scream of the machine guns tearing the world apart.

The craft finally flies by, seemingly pleased with its assault.

Madge looks up almost dazedly, shocked that she was still somehow alive. It was as if there was so much adrenaline in her body, that she was nearly buzzing. What snaps her out of her panic-induced haze is Lacey’s cry of pain.

Looking around wildly, she finds her friend behind a large clot of dirt, clutching her arm tightly.

“Lacey!” Madge shouts as she climbs over uneven mounds of dirt to reach her. “Are you alright?”

“Madge,” Lacey whispers to her, the white of her eyes prominent against the dirt on her face. “Madge you need to stop the tank. I got one bullet, you need to shoot there again.”

Madge immediately shakes her head. “I can’t do that! I’m-”

“Anthony jumped trenches,” Lacey says between clenched teeth. Her arm was bleeding badly. “He has to focus on stopping the peacekeepers. Madge, you _must_ stop this tank.”

“I can’t,” Madge repeats in a whisper. “I’m not Katniss.”

“Katniss isn’t here,” Lacey groans as her breathing grows shallower. “But you are. Doesn’t that say something?”

Madge just stares at Lacey’s exhausted face, fighting the urge to just curl into a ball and sob.

“We don’t have the time,” Lacey breathes as she slumps over. “If you miss or don’t shoot, either way, we die.”

Madge takes her rifle from her.

Lacey was right. If she was gonna die, it wouldn’t be in a surrender to Snow.

For the first time since she came into the trench, she sits up so that she can see ahead.

There are only three Peacekeeper’s left, and they’ve drawn extremely close. The tank continues to roll smoothly.

Madge is able to locate the spot where Lacey had shot the glass. Taking a deep breath, she positions her rifle on top of the dirt. A bullet whizzes past her left ear.

Peering through the scope, Madge’s fingers curl around the trigger as she stares down her target. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the tank’s main gun repositioning to point at her. A moment later, it will be reloaded and she’ll be blown to microscopic pieces.

Everything stills as Madge recalls the look on Katniss’ face right before she had blown the arena up. She shoots.

The remaining glass goes red with blood as Madge’s bullet grows through Lacey’s crack and into the operator’s face. But all is not well. Madge knows this as she watches the operator’s dead body fall out of his seat, knocking whatever control aimed the gun.

Because in the next moment, it goes off, shooting into the building beside them.

“Anthony!” Madge shrieks as she stands up fully, grabbing Lacey’s limp body and slinging the rifle over her shoulder as the building began to creak so loudly it sounded as if the sky was being ripped in half. _“Run!”_

The sound of bending metal alerts her that the building is quickly collapsing towards them, but Lacey can hardly shuffle her feet let alone run, leaving Madge to drag her out of the trench.

Madge has no idea where Anthony is, and she has no time to wonder because the building makes contact with the ground, sending her and Lacey sprawling.

Flipping over onto her back, Madge can only watch as the very top of the building comes crashing down on her, her gun digging into her spine as death came spiraling down.

The earth shakes once more when the building falls totally, and a heap of dirt falls into Madge’s open mouth as she stares at the top corner of the building just meters from her face, a knocked down portion of the trench holding it just above her.

Cuts lined her body up and down and between splotches of blue bruised skin, but Madge can only think one thing.

_I just killed a man_

“Madge!”

Hearing Anthony call out her name forces her stiff muscles to move. She rolls over and spits the dirt out of her mouth, though its taste lingers.

Movements jerky, she gets up to where Anthony is carrying an unconscious Lacey.

“Is she ok,” her voice sounds foreign even to her. The air between them was heavy with settling dust and if she squinted, it was as if she was in the Seam, right after a mine collapse.

“She needs to go to the hospital,” Anthony tells her with a frown. “But are you ok? You look pretty shell-shocked.”

“Fine,” Madge answers numbly, glancing behind her where Denim lay buried beneath dirt and a fallen building. “Let’s just go.”

She forces her legs to go forward as she and Anthony walk to the hospital’s little entrance. To think, their mission had not yet even begun.

 _Gale,_ Madge tells herself as she tries to imagine his face. _Keep on fighting, like how he would._

Her mind can only conjure a dim picture of his features, to which she understands. That kind of lovely beauty couldn’t exist here.

_“Shit.”_

Madge blinks to attention at Anthony’s hiss, and gasps in shock as she finds a haggard Peacekeeper standing beside one of the circular sewer drains that led down into the hospital.

“Did you filthy _animals_ think you could win?” he laughs maniacally, deranged features visible with his helmet tossed to the side. Madge realizes from his battle-rugged looks that he must have escaped sometime during the building collapsing. “You’re savages all of you! Savages!”

Madge unslings her gun from her back and points it to his forehead. “Step away from the hole.”

He grins at her widely, eyes unfocused. “Go ahead, shoot me, you ugly bitch. I’ve already done my job.”

“No,” Madge whispers as the anxiety begins to creep in.

Anthony seems to have had enough, because he sets down Lacey and shoots the Peacekeeper himself.

That’s when the screaming starts.

“No!” Madge shouts, rushing over to the opened sewage drain. She’s about to rush down the ladder when she inhales the white gas that billows out.

She has to jump back as her face and neck burn as if they’ve been set on fire. Falling to her knees from the pain, her body retches several times in an attempt to expel the poison gas from her lungs.

“What happened?” Anthony yells, running over while carrying Lacey in one arm.

“Poison gas,” Madge wails as she thinks of baby Leo. “He threw in _poison_ gas!”

She makes to go in again, but Anthony forcefully grabs her by the collar and yanks her back.

“You’ll kill yourself,” he says sadly.

“I don’t care,” Madge snarls, shoving past him. Leo wasn’t even an infant, he was an hours-old newborn. His frail body would be unable to withstand the gas, but Madge-

She’s about to crawl into the hole the larger entrance they use, the one with stairs, is suddenly pushed open, and a stream of frantic people come pouring out.

Madge sprints over, weaving her way through the coughing survivors. Their skins are singed and hair frayed, which makes her stomach drop. How would a newborn’s soft skin fare against such potent gas?

A familiar face makes her stop in her tracks.

“Jenny!” Madge cries as she rushes towards one of her assistants. Jenny has that shell-shocked look Anthony was talking about earlier.

“Madge,” Jenny mumbles, eyes darting around wildly, as if expecting the white gas to appear out of nowhere again.

“Jenny,” Madge takes her by the shoulders and gives her a shake, bringing some focus back into her eyes. “Leo- the little boy who was born earlier today, where is he?”

Jenny’s face drops from panicked to sorrowful. “The- the gas came in from the west. Only us furthest out east were able to get out…”

Madge almost doesn’t want to ask. “And where was he?”

Jenny’s silence is an answer enough. Madge turns away from her wordlessly, just standing there as people continued to shout and cry around her. It was as if she had run out of tears. Or maybe she had just hit the human threshold of just how much anguish one person could handle. A heart could only break so many times, just like how an atom could be split only once.

She doesn’t say anything when Anthony pulls her away, the Peacekeeper’s uniform in his spare hand. She doesn’t know where Lacey is.

He ends up leading her into a nearby building.

“This is where I worked,” he says when they enter it. Madge stares at him blankly.

“Lacey is being looked after,” he adds uncomfortably. Madge looks out the filthy windows, not really processing anything around her. She felt catatonic.

Anthony is quiet for a while as he changes into the stolen uniform. Madge hardly registers his half-naked state. When he finishes, he comes over to her and takes both of her hands into his. She stares at the hands emptily.

“Look, I know you’re taking the death of that baby hard,” he begins hesitantly. “There was nothing you could do. But if you aren’t able to get it together now, his death will be in vain.”

Madge meets his eyes, and her eyes finally begin to water.

“I was the first person to hold him,” Madge croaks. “I could have- I could have loved him like my own son.”

It’s clear by Anthony’s face that he doesn’t understand her affection. Hell, Madge herself can hardly explain it. All she knows is that when she looked at his crying face, something new had been born in her heart.

“Then survive this war,” Anthony tells her. “Have a son. And love him like how you could have loved that baby.”

Madge looks away from him and pulls out a drawing from her breast pocket. Robot-Madge stared back.

There was already a baby she loved and was waiting for her. There were also two boys that missed her.

For them. For _them_ and their sweet innocent hearts, she would fight on and make sure they’d never ever feel how she does now. Let her heart become elastic if theirs can remain porcelain.

“What’s that?” Anthony asks curiously.

“Nothing,” Madge says as she tucks it back into her pocket. Turning around and holding her hands out behind her. “We have a boat to hijack.”

“That’s my girl,” Anthony says proudly as he binds her wrists. “I know we’ve been through literal hell today, but what’s coming up next is the most crucial step.”

Madge nods and turns around. “So you flag them down and turn me in, then what?”

She watches some life flow back into Anthony as he answers. “They’ll probably take you down below. I’ll figure out some way to signal you. When you get the signal, I want you to _scream._ Make as much noise as you can. While they’re distracted by your ruckus, I’ll take out the captain.”

Madge tries not to let her worry show. It was an extremely fragile plan.

“Alright,” she sighs. “Let’s go.”

There’s still a bustle outside, but more of Paylor’s men have arrived to help out.

 _Just hold on_ Madge thinks desperately _A little more, and you’ll have your supplies._

_I promise._

 

* * *

 

Madge is thrown a small set of wooden stairs, but the impact is still painful, especially since she couldn’t break her fall with her hands. With a groan, she tries to sit up, but is grabbed by her hair and shoved forward.

“You sure got some willpower,” the peacekeeper manhandling her tells Anthony, who watches silently from behind his mask. “I would have shot this cunt the second I saw her.”

“I recognized her,” Anthony replies, thankfully more or less able to mask his accent. “I knew her capture would be vital.”

“I’m glad you did,” the peacekeeper smiles maliciously as his eyes roam up and down her body. “Because I could really go for some fun right now.”

Madge feels as if she’s been doused by a bucket of ice water. Women really did have to fight two wars at a time.

“I think we should wait for further instructions,” Anthony tries to stop him in a tight voice. Madge tries to meet his eyes and calm him. If this is what it’ll take to….

She shuts her eyes, unable to finish that sentence. She’d rather die than be touched by this monster, but if she didn’t, everything could fall apart.

“Who’s gonna complain if she’s been poked around a bit,” the peacekeeper chuckles, making his way towards her.

“President Snow,” Madge suddenly speaks up, his filthy comment giving her an idea.

The peacekeeper pauses.

“Entertain me,” he growls. “Why would the president give a flying fuck what would happen to a whore like _you?”_

“I fight in this war for a very personal reason,” Madge sniffs, trying to look haughty. “My Father was Mayor of 12. President Snow has been visiting my bedroom for years. And while I could care less what that devil thinks and hopes he dies slowly and painfully, I hardly think he’ll be happy with _you_ if you’re found playing with one of his favorite playthings.”

The peacekeeper doesn’t look like he believes her, but he doesn’t come any closer.

“It’s true,” Anthony mercifully speaks up. “I got a buddy down in the Capitol. He hears things. That’s a huge reason why I captured her.”

This seems to persuade the man.

“She is pretty,” he concedes, though angrily. Looking her up and down one last time, he spits on her face. “Bitch.”

Anthony lunges at him.

“Stop!” Madge shouts, but Anthony ignores her as his fists pummel the man’s face over and over again. “Anthony, you’ll kill him!”

Because he ignores her and continues to savagely lash out, Madge stands up and barrels herself into him. She’s able to topple him over, but the momentum is too much and he ends up rolling onto her, and his weight pushes her bound wrists painfully into her back and floor.

Before she can ask him if he’s lost his mind, the door above them is opened and three more peacekeepers come barreling down the stairs. Madge had actually pushed them both to the side, and this momentary short-sightedness is what lets Anthony stand up to grab the gun from the nearest keeper.

The confusion of being attacked by one of their own makes the other two’s response time slower. Not giving them time to get their bearings together, Madge hurriedly scoots forward so that she can knock the other one off his feet.

By this time Anthony has subdued the one he stole the gun from and shoots the still standing one. The peacekeeper she knocked over reaches for the gun he dropped, but Madge raises her legs and brings them down solidly on his ribs once, and then twice. Anthony shoots him a moment later.

“Stay here!” Anthony barks, rushing up the stairs.

For some time, it’s just Madge and three slowly dying men as chaos reigns above them. She wishes Anthony had unbound her, but not only had he left her restrained, but he had also shut the trapdoor, effectively trapping her. Despite their evident evil, anytime Madge looked at one of their faces, she wanted to vomit.

If she wasn’t so worried for his life, she’d want to bite his head off in anger.

The noise up above gets noticeably louder, and Madge holds her breath as she waits for the outcome.

_Please...please please let things work out._

The trapdoor swings open, startling her terribly. She relaxes slightly when a winded but smiling Anthony comes down the stairs.

“Got the other guys on,” he tells her smugly. “Took down most of the caps myself.”

“Are you mad?” Madge snaps, not even bothering trying to smother her anger. “You could have put this entire mission in jeopardy with your brashness!”

Anthony shrugs non-contritely. “I _was_ mad with how he treated you. It was wrong and he got what he deserved.”

Madge deflates with a shake of her head as he comes over and finally frees her wrists.

“You’re just like Gale,” Madge sighs, rubbing some blood into her sore hands.

“Who?” Anthony asks with a frown.

“Tony!” a man from up above calls. “C’mere!”

“Coming Dad!” Anthony calls back, going up the stairs. Madge follows him.

She starts when she sees several Peacekeepers on board before realizing they’re just rebels in stolen uniforms just like Anthony.

“Where’s Lacey?” Anthony’s father asks him. “She knows how to make the mix.”

“She...got hurt,” Anthony admits slowly.

Anthony’s father slumps against the railing. “This whole thing is counting on this…”

“I know how to make it,” Madge speaks up. Both father and son look at her sharply. “I remember what she said. And I always got top marks in chemistry.”

“While I don’t doubt your intelligence Miss,” Anthony’s father says. “But if you’re even slightly off, this’ll be a bust.”

“I know,” she assures him. “I’ll get it right.”

“Guess I don’t have another choice,” he sighs before straightening. “Already you two, below deck. I’ll call you up when it’s safe.”

“But dad-” Anthony is cut off with a quick look from his father. Grumbling he goes down the stairs. Madge hesitates. She doesn’t really want to be around Anthony, but she also doesn’t want to cause trouble.

Reluctantly, she returns below deck. Anthony is thankfully too wrapped up in his own thoughts that he leaves her be. For a while, they just sit there, gently swaying with the water of the canal.

The boat suddenly shifts upwards, and Madge realizes that they’re being brought into the fort.

Despite herself, excitement bubbles inside of her chest. They had done it, they had gotten in!

“Woohoo!” Anthony hollers as he too realizes what’s going on. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Their good moods dim quickly. Nearly an hour passes and no one comes for them.

“What’s going on up there?” Anthony finally explodes, angrily going up the stairs.

“Don’t you dare,” Madge hisses right before his fist makes contact with the trapdoor. “I’m sure they have their reasons for not coming to get us. Now sit down before you put everything at risk again.”

Anthony’s eyes narrow at her, but before he can say anything, the door is opened.

“Dad!” Anthony cries only to be immediately shushed.

“There are caps everywhere,” Anthony’s father explains as he climbs down. He hands something to Anthony before tossing it to Madge as well. “Took a while to get gas masks, but we can go ahead now.”

“Finally,” Anthony says impatiently. “Let’s kick their asses.”

His father nods, but goes over to the corner and pulls on a crate. Opening it, he removes some sort of technical equipment. “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to get in here until we have more cover.”

The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a new space, but she nods and crawls in. The lid is placed back and Madge is plunged into darkness.

As she’s carried out, she fingers the gas mask in her hands. If Leo had had one…

Inside the crate is extremely hot and stuffy and by the time she’s allowed out, Madge is nearing desperately low levels of oxygen.

Graciously gulping in air as she climbs out, Madge looks around as finds that they’re in some sort of boiler room.

“This industrial fan here blows from this vent,” Anthony’s father explains to her. “We put in our mix here and this entire fort will be done in five minutes tops.”

“Right,” Madge says more to herself. “Let’s get to it then.”

The gas mask obstructs her vision a little bit and warms her already overheated skin, but Madge carefully mixes the industrial chemicals the rebels had snuck aboard, using every ounce of concentration to follow every instruction of Lacey’s down to the T.

“It’s done,” Madge announces after nearly 15 minutes of work. “It’s ready.”

Two rebels carry the container over and open a panel of the large vent to place it inside. At their signal, the fan is turned on.

Madge notices a portion of the wall is glass further back and walks to it. Below her, she watches peacekeepers drop like flies.

There was no doubt about it. She was now a killer.

The next half hour or so is a total rush as the rebels work as fast as they can in stocking as many ships as they can with whatever they can get their hands on, but there is only so much they can take.

With several ships nearly brimmed, it’s safe to say the mission is a success, at least to Madge it is.

Not everyone thinks like this.

“C’mon Dad!” Anthony calls for his father from where he stands on deck. “Time to roll out.”

“I’m not coming son,” his father explains patiently. Madge stops what she’s doing to stare at him.

“What are you talking about?” Anthony asks, voice suddenly higher. “We need to go before they figure out what’s going on.”

“Exactly,” Anthony’s father says. “We can’t leave them something to go back to.”

Someone’s opened the gates of the fort, and the boats begin to leave.

“What are you saying?” Anthony shouts, jumping off the edge of the boat to stand with his father.

Anthony’s father only smiles at him tiredly. “Before this place blows up, I want all of 8 to see this.”

From his back pocket, he pulls out a cloth folded many times. He opens it up to reveal a flag.

It’s red, with a golden Mockingjay.

“You’re crazy!” Anthony shouts again. “You can’t just- you have to come with me!”

Anthony’s father grabs him by the face and pulls him forward until their foreheads touch.

“My revenge will be your laughter,” he tells him gently, before kissing his cheeks. “You are my pride. Now go, son.”

“No,” Anthony cries. “No, Dad please…”

“Miss,” Anthony’s father calls out to her. Madge straightens immediately. He tosses her over something. It’s a small remote control with a single red button.

“When you see this go up,” he holds up the flag. “Count to 30 and then press that button.”

“Yes sir,” Madge answers throatily. The boat begins to move, and Anthony’s father nearly shoves Anthony onboard.

Anthony says nothing, but continues to cry silently as he watches his father’s retreating figure. Madge comes over to him and holds his hand. His grip is limp.

The boat leaves the canal in they’re back in the cool night air of 8. She and Anthony stand silently as they watch the top of the fort.

It felt surreal. That was the only word she could use, to see the flag of Panem be lowered and replaced with the flag of her Aunt’s pin. She counts to 30 and looks to Anthony.

“Do it,” is all he says, not moving his eyes from the flag as it billows idyllically in the breeze. With a deep breath, Madge pushes the button.

The force of the explosion isn’t enough to knock them down, but she certainly feels the heat of the flames and has to shield her eyes with her arm from the bright light.

She’s vaguely aware of rebels throwing their crates of supplies onto shore. They have to unload as soon as possible since peacekeeper boats could be floating down towards them any moment, but she and Anthony just stand there, watching the fort burn.

“Tell them,” Anthony suddenly speaks up in a cracked voice. He lifts up her wrist. “Show the world his sacrifice.”

Madge looks down and remembers she’s still wearing Bogg’s communicuff.

“Could you…” Madge doesn’t have to finish her request. Anthony fiddles with her cuff before nodding.

She holds up her wrist so that it’s staring at her.

“My name is Madge Undersee,” she introduces herself. “And thanks to the efforts of our comrades in District 5, rebel forces have been able to take over District 8!”

A bit awkwardly, she angles her wrist so that she can record the burning fort. Suddenly, all her grief, all her anguish, all her broken hopes turn into anger.

“Just like the Mockingjay promised, if we burn, you burn with us,” Madge warns, pointing the cuff back at herself so they could see what she did next. Kissing her three fingers and holding them up, Madge declares, “To a free Panem!”

After a moment, she holds out her wrist and she asks Anthony, “Could you turn it off?”

Eventually, they get off the boat and help store the supplies in a nearby warehouse. Madge’s communicuff beeps.

_30 minutes till arrival_

 

* * *

 

 

The rising dawn sun was beautiful, but Madge didn’t really feel its warmth as she stood at the designated pickup spot. In a way, the true goal she had stayed in 8 for had turned out to be a miserable failure. She felt like she had lost more lives than she had saved.

“Thank you,” Anthony speaks up for the first time since they were on the boat. “For everything you did in 8. We won’t forget this.”

Madge shakes her head. “I came to start up a hospital, and not only did I run it terribly, but it was destroyed once more.”

Anthony shrugs. “Even if that’s true, what matters is you tried. I don’t see anyone else from 13 here.”

Madge looks away from him. She shouldn’t, but she feels ashamed. 13 had such rigorous requirements for combat because it didn’t want to lose any more of its population. They wanted to districts to face the brunt of the war.

“We have to help each other,” is what she finally says. “It’s the only way things will change.”

“I need your help,” Anthony says, taking her by surprise. When she looks at him, his face is especially vulnerable. “I- I need you, Madge. And if you stayed here, I’d help you too. One day we could be happy.”

He looks away from her and fidgets with his gun. “We...we could have that son.”

Her heart went out to Anthony. It truly did. She knew firsthand that when you lose your family, you’re _desperate_ to find a similar love wherever it can be offered.

“I can’t help you with what is hurting you right now,” she tells him softly. “Only one person can allow you to move on from this heartbreak, and that’s yourself.”

“Have you?” he asks in a tight voice. “Have you moved on?”

Madge answers him truthfully. “No.”

“But _he_ makes you want to,” Anthony comments flatly. Madge immediately knows who he’s referring to.

Not wanting to lie to him, she answers truthfully once more. “Yes.”

A large gust of wind blows over them as the hovercraft begins to land.

“Anthony, you will find a woman one day who you love and she loves you back,” Madge assures him kindly. “And you’ll know, because you two will be your best selves when you’re together.”

“Tell Gale Hawthorne he’s a lucky bastard,” Anthony says with a shake of his head. He leaves without another word.

 

* * *

 

Madge mostly sleeps on the way back. She’s beyond the point of being wary of the high height she’s at.

She wakes up about forty minutes out from 13, where she inhales a flavorless meal. If only they had an in-flight shower…

The rest of the ride is spent with her as a ball of nerves. She so desperately wanted to see her family again that it almost hurt. This week away from them truly felt like a lifetime.

When they finally land, Madge has half a mind to sprint to her room, but she’s stopped in surprise at the sight of Plutarch Heavensbee personally waiting to welcome her back.

“Hello my dear!” he booms cheerfully as she cautiously climbs out of the small craft. “Any pressing medical needs?”

“No,” Madge answers in a clipped tone. “I need- I need to see my family.”

Heavensbee tips his head. “Of course, of course. You and I can always speak later.”

Not even bothering to spare a thought towards what that meant, Madge rushes to her room. She’s afraid that if she slows down she’ll wake up and be back in 8, thousands of miles away from her family.

When she finally arrives at room 514, she finds herself hesitating. What if they didn’t miss her? What if her welcome wouldn’t be so welcome after all?

Feeling like she was staring down a tank once more, Madge slowly pushes the door open.

Hazelle is sitting on the rocking chair, reading something on her tablet. Rory is messaging his friends on his communicuff and Vick is lying on his stomach on the floor, drawing something on his tablet. Posy is playing with a doll made out of a towel. She’s the first to notice her.

“Madge!” Posy shrieks loud enough to rival a hovercraft’s engine.

As Posy sprints towards her, the remaining Hawthorne’s look up at her. Hazelle covers her mouth as she begins to cry and Vick pushes off the floor and has his arms around her just seconds after Posy collides into her.

Both Vick and Posy cry into her, and she has a hard time making out what they’re saying because she’s crying too.

Then Rory comes up to her.

“Hey,” he says over all the crying, face oddly blank.

“Hi,” Madge sniffles. A moment later he has her in his arms, engulfing the three of them into his embrace.

They all meet the floor in a pile, and she has no idea whose tears are whose all she knows is that these are siblings and they are, held in her arms and being showered with her kisses.

“I did everything for you,” she whispers to them. “Everything.”

After a while, they’re able to more or less calm down. Madge gets her own personal greeting from Hazelle. It’s only in the older woman’s embrace does Madge feel safe for the first time in over a week.

“I missed you sooo much,” Posy tells her as she sits in her lap. “I missed sleeping with you.”

“I missed sleeping with you too,” Madge says back honestly. “I thought about all of you every day.”

“We thought about you too!” Vick exclaims. “Did you keep my drawing?”

Madge reaches into her breast pocket and pulls it out. It’s filthy and frayed, but there.

“It gave me great strength,” Madge says softly. “Thank you, Vick.”

Vick blushes and shrugs. Turning to Rory, Madge appraises him proudly.

“You’ve grown!” Madge comments. “You really are taller than Prim now, huh?”

Instead of making a smart-ass comment as she was expecting him to, he simply nods.

“I’m happy you’re back,” Rory says to her, taking her by surprise. Had Rory seriously matured in just one week? It wasn’t because of her absence, was it?

“And now for Gale to come back,” Hazelle sighs. Madge looks up at her sharply.

“Where’s Gale?” she asks slowly, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

“You don’t know?” Vick speaks up. “He’s in the Capitol.”

 

* * *

 

 

This time Madge does sprint.

She had gotten Rory to call Heavensbee on her borrowed cuff, where she had more or less demanded to know where Katniss was.

 _Idiot!_ Madge thinks to herself angrily. _Why would you go to the_ Capitol?!

She bursts the door to the “top secret control room” and is immediately met with several hostile glares. She ignores them all as she watches Katniss speak to President Snow. She meets Mr.Abernathy’s worried gaze for a moment before she sees Gale’s face on one of the screens. He was on a craft.

A hand on her arm makes her jump and reach for the phantom rifle slung across her shoulder, but it turns out to be Al.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Maybe you should-”

He is cut off with Katniss’s anguished scream. Heart plummeting to her feet, Madge’s neck snaps up to find Gale’s face on the screen, but its blank.

“Where is he?” Katniss screams tearfully at the 13 crew working frantically at their computers. “Is Gale ok?!”

Madge was wrong. She _hadn’t_ used up all her tears, and she had been nowhere _near_ the maximum threshold for human suffering. She’s surpassed it in this moment.

Al is too slow to catch her. She curls in on herself as she hears frantic voices, chest heaving with violent sobs.

Gale, the love of her life, was gone. Dead. Never again would she see his face, hear his voice. Never again would she ever feel happiness. She would never, ever move on from this all encompassing-pain she felt now. She wouldn’t allow herself to. Gale was her entire heart, and she no longer had one.

He had flamed and she caught fire. Now he was ashes while she lay a barren wick.

As she began to lose consciousness, Madge is able to make one thing out.

“Haymitch please!” she hears Katniss beg. “I can’t lose them both!”

_Whore_

 

* * *

 

The beeping is what wakes her up. She knows immediately where she is when she opens her eyes.

She hasn’t even sat up yet when her mind has fully formulated a plan. She’s in some sort of open ward. They didn’t even give her the decency of curtains.

No matter. Looking around, she finds a nurses cart just feet from her. Perfect. Swinging her legs over the bed, Madge drags her IV stand with her. Plucking a scalpel off the cart, Madge cuts off the several tubes and wires attached to her.

“Soldier, you must return to bed immediately,” a doctor tries telling her, but is silenced when Madge holds up her scalpel threateningly. They could do whatever they wanted with her, but first, she had to kill the woman who had killed Gale by sending him to the Capitol.

Getting this scalpel into Coin’s scalp would be tricky, yes, but Madge had nothing but motivation.

“Stay away from me,” Madge warns. “I’ll fucking kill you if you try to stop me.”

More of the medical staff surrounds her, but Madge won’t go down without a fight.

“Put the scalpel down,” a nurse growls. Madge glowers right back.

“I am perfectly healthy,” Madge growls. “So get the hell out of my way.”

One of the doctors behind her grabs her arm and pins her to his chest.

“Let me go!” Madge screams wildly as she thrashes about, kicking at whoever came near her. “Let me go!”

“Hey!”

Madge stills at the shout. Immediately someone grabs the scalpel from her, but she pays that no attention.

“Let her go _right_ now.”

There’s a sudden bustle of voices in the hospital, but Madge can only focus on the one speaking to the doctor holding her.

Turning her head as if this was a dream, Madge slowly looks over to where the voice had come from.

Standing there in his black uniform, alive and angry was Gale.

“You’re alive,” Madge whispers. It's as if the surronding world is just scenery, and it all melts away.

The doctor reluctantly lets go of her and goes over to where seemingly the entire hospital has congregated. Madge stays rooted in her spot.

Her eyes drink in features she thought she would never see again as he rushes towards her.

“Madge,” he sighs, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re alive,” Madge repeats again against his neck.

He pulls back to look at her. She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until he wipes away a tear.

“Of course I’m alive,” he says with a concerned frown. “I’d never leave you here.”

She doesn’t know how, but she manages to not break down completely right there.

“Please,” she whispers, closing her eyes and resting her head above his heart. “Take me somewhere that it’s just us.”

“Of course,” Gale whispers back. A moment later, he picks her up, arm winding just below her bottom to keep her from being indecently exposed in her hospital gown.

“Soldier, this patient has not been cleared to check out,” a frazzled nurse tries to tell Gale. Madge tightens her grip around his neck. It would take a tank to get her to let go of him.

“Give me her medicine,” Gale compromises. “I’ll make sure she gets it. Besides, you could use all the empty beds you can get, right?”

“I- alright, just a moment,” she tells him before rushing off.

Gale strokes her back soothingly and she buries her face in his neck, inhaling his scent like it was an antidote to every poison gas out there. He smelled of sweat, gun oil, something distinctly masculine, and the _faintest_ trace of citrus. When she died, she wanted her heaven to smell exactly like him.

“Well isn’t this heartwarming,” an unfamiliar voice calls out crudely. “Goldilocks gets her prince charming. Say, where can I get one?”

She looks up and sees a skeletal, bald woman glaring at her. She breaks their gaze by looking at a doctor and demanding morphling. Madge buries her face in Gale’s neck again, shuddering at the word.

Gale is given her medicine and he walks out of the hospital still carrying her. The entire time her grip on his does not loosen even by an inch. If she could cut herself open and shove him inside of her, she would- that’s how close she wanted to be with him.

Soon enough, he enters a room and sets her down on a bed; he’s taken her to her old room. Before she can complain that he’s too far from her, he kicks off his boots and crawls in right beside her. Madge immediately turns to her side and Gale pulls her back into his chest.

“When I went into the control room, your screen went dark,” Madge explains quietly. “I really thought that you were....gone.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that Madge,” Gale apologizes genuinely, one of his hands tangling into her hair. “I had been hoping to be back before you.”

Madge looks up at him tearfully. “I can’t explain how relieved I am right now. I really can’t.”

“Me too,” Gale grins, bumping her nose with his. “I went batshit without you. To the point of arrest.”

“What?” Madge gasps, unbelieving what she just heard. Gale got arrested. Over her?

“I tried to steal a craft,” he admits, not looking one bit sorry. “I wanted to be with you.”

“Oh, Gale,” Madge giggles, because really, that’s _such_ a Gale thing to do. “I’m glad you weren’t in 8.”

Gale frowns. “Why?”

She sobers immediately. “Because it was hell on earth.”

His eyes immediately grow sorrowful. “You can tell me about it. If you want.”

She considers this. It would be good if at least one person knew what she had been through.

So she starts from the start. Her struggle to run a hospital. The patients she lost. The ones she was able to save. She begins to cry when she gets to Leo, but Gale kisses her cheek and murmurs comforting words to her until she’s ready to speak again.

He looks crossed between anger and horror as she details to him her time in the trench. She purposely leaves out the peacekeeper that had wanted to assault her. As well as any mention of Anthony personally. It just felt...out of place.

When she finally gets to the burning of the fort, Gale exhales tiredly.

“You’re more of a soldier than I am,” he says quietly, several emotions in his eyes.

“If I can keep it that way I will,” Madge says immediately. “There really is no valor. Just...death.”

“Madge,” Gale says in a low, but strong voice. He reaches down and brings one of her hands up to kiss its back. Madge blinks in shock at the intimate action, nevermind they’re lying down with one of her legs in between his. “I swear on my Father’s grave, I will end this war as soon as I can. And I will make sure it ends in a way that the Capitol will _never_ return.”

Heart accelerating, Madge smiles at him.

“I believe you,” Madge whispers. “You’re Gale Hawthorne, my infallible hero.”

“You’re Madge Undersee,” he whispers back. “My beautiful, brave heroine.”

“Hardly,” Madge murmurs, unable to keep her gaze on him any longer. She was only now realizing how bad she must look- and smell. She _did_ live in a sewer for a week.

“What are you thinking about?” Gale asks in a voice she’s never heard him use before. The closest she can describe it is...tender.

“If I smell bad,” Madge confesses with a small laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Gale suddenly apologizes. “I bet you want to shower real bad. Don’t let me keep you up.”

“It’s fine,” Madge immediately assures him, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll still be here when you’re done,” he promises her with a wink.

“Ok,” Madge mumbles, face heating up.

She heads into the bathroom and is relieved to find a towel and soap. It really was the little things that mattered.

She tries to shower as quickly as she can, but there’s just so much grime and dirt on her it takes nearly twenty minutes before the water stops running brown. She really is feeling miles better when she gets out, although she’s slightly annoyed that she doesn’t have any other clothes besides the flimsy gown. Not even a pair of panties. Thank _God_ they let her keep her sports bra on.

Toweling off, Madge grimaces when she catches her reflection in the mirror. Though clean, she certainly remained looking fresh off the battlefield.

With a sigh, she exits the bathroom. To an empty room.

She looks around, but there’s not a note in sight. He had left her. When he had promised not to.

 _Probably to go to Katniss_ Madge thinks bitterly. _Why_ would _he be here with me if he could be with here?_

She flings herself onto her bed feeling hollow and exhausted when the door.

“Aw damn,” Gale curses, carrying a steaming mug. “I gotta work on my timings.”

“Where were you?” Madge can’t help but ask accusingly as she sits up.

“You have to take your medicine now,” Gale answers. “I thought you’d like some tea with it to relax a bit.”

Madge stares at him.

“Cause, you know, you’ve been through a lot,” Gale continues awkwardly, probably misreading her look. “You don’t hate tea, do you?”

“No,” Madge replies softly. “I love it.”

Gale hands her the tea and medicine before taking a seat with his back to the wall, and her back to his chest.

For a while, they just sat there, her head tucked under his chin as he rubbed in small circles into her arms. When she finishes her tea, she turns so that her legs are draped over his thigh and her head against his shoulder, allowing her to gaze up at him.

He gazed right back, and in that moment, Madge truly and honestly feels a live fire between the molecules of their touching skins.

“Gale,” Madge speaks, finally finding the courage after four years of hiding an inconcealable love. “There is something I want to tell you.”

Gale tucks a drying strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’d love to hear it,” he replies with a smile. “But may I tell you something first? I promise to be quick.”

Well, she’s waited this long. What’s one more minute? Nodding her consent, Gale takes a deep breath.

“Madge, forgive me for how I treated you,” he begins. Madge opens her mouth immediately, but he holds up a gentle finger against her lips. “Please let me finish.”

Crinkling her nose so he knew she wasn’t entirely happy, she lets him continue. The finger that was pressed against her lips begins to gently caress her lower lip.

“But if you give me the chance, I can prove to you how well I _can_ treat you,” Gale continues. Madge wants to sigh. Did he really think she held that big of a grudge against him? She knew he was genuine in his friendship.

“Madge, for so long, my life existed in only gray. You give my life color,” Gale breathes. “You make me a better, smarter man. When I’m with you, I feel like I can take on the world. When I’m away from you, I _want_ to take down the entire world so I can be with you.”

Madge stares at him wide-eyed, not truly believing what she was hearing.

“Your laugh reminds me of the summer air in the woods. Your face stays in my mind hours after I see you. Your words make me feel the same way I feel when I watch a sunset.”

“Gale…” Madge trails off, not sure if she could articulate what she was feeling at the moment in even a hundred years.

“I know I’m no good with my words,” Gale admits, cheeks dark. “But Madge, what I’m trying to say is I love you. With all my heart.”

Reaching up to cup his cheek, Madge stares into the eyes that have appeared in her every flowery dream.

“It seems the exhaustion that came with loving you all these years finally paid off, huh?” Madge sighs.

“Yes,” Gale responds with one of the largest grins she has ever seen on his face. “But I intend on making it up to you this very second.”

When Gale kisses her, she stops tasting the dirt in her mouth. She feels the fire, the love, the lightness, the longing but most importantly, she feels hope.

She smiles into his mouth, and he smiles right back.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, long time no see. I do hope the sheer length of this chapter makes up for my inexcusable absence. I wanted to cut it off when Madge finds out Gale is "dead", but I couldn't bring myself to that cruelty
> 
> That being said, I do hope you all liked this chapter, as its events were what inspired me to write this fic in the first place. 
> 
> Also, hooray, they're finally together! Took long enough!


	25. Amongst the Flowers

Madge did not miss the irony of her situation.

She had turned down a position in the combative forces to register as a field medic. Now she’d do anything to have a gun back in her hand. At least in the heat of the moment, you were able to forget everything else, and just focus on surviving.

But as she sat in the dim medical laboratory, peering down at a deranged Peeta through an observatory panel, it’s all she can do but be overwhelmed by every awful feeling that came with watching someone she was once nearly close to fighting against their own mind. And be losing.

It was too much. The smell of antiseptic. The hushed theorizing. The grim reality that a cure may very well not be found. It was as if she were reliving her time in the sewers of 8, but distilled and muted.

“Hi, Madge.”

Tearing her eyes away from Peeta, who was currently attempting to gnaw his restraints off, Madge turns around and faces an exhausted-looking Prim.

“Prim,” Madge has to clear the hoarseness from her throat. She doesn’t speak much when she works. “How are you?”

Prim shrugs miserably.f

“As well as I can be, I guess,” the younger girl murmurs quietly. Madge immediately feels ashamed for pulling a dark cloud over her head while Prim was still giving her work her all, even with her sister in critical condition.

“They’ll pull through,” Madge assures Prim, reaching over and giving her shoulder an affirming squeeze. “Both of them.”

“I hope,” Prim sighs, not meeting Madge’s gaze. “Katniss will recover physically of course but…”

Prim didn’t have to finish her sentence. Katniss would never be the same if this was who Peeta was now. And that’s why Madge stayed in this damn lab for eight hours every day without fail. She owed it to her friendship with Katniss and the respect she had for Peeta as a person to help as much as she could.

Not that she had been much help…

“Anyways,” Prim says in a noticeably forced chipper voice. “I took your idea to Dr. Aurelias.”

“Idea?” Madge repeats bewilderedly, having no idea what she was referring to.

Prim smiles and nods at her. “Yes! Remember how you suggested we try having Delly speak to Peeta? Dr. Aurelias thought it might be able to help him calm down. Speaking to someone he used to know.”

“Oh,” Truthfully, when Madge had said they have Delly try speaking to Peeta, it was more of a sarcastic quip born out of frustration and based on the fact that Delly could probably hold an hour-long conversation with a rock. “Well, I’m, um, glad I could help.”

Prim nods before peering at what Madge was working on. “Are you calibrating the centrifuge?”

“Yes,” Madge answers, gesturing to the several vials that were sitting in a stand. “I have to pop those in next for about 40 minutes.”

“Once you’ve done that, feel free to take the rest of the day off,” a new voice adds.

Both Madge and Prim turn to see Dr. Aurelias himself approaching them. Madge didn’t know what to make of the older man. While he was certainly more agreeable to work with than Dr. Silverman, he was observant to the point of unnerving. Perhaps that was why he had risen 13’s steep ranks to head doctor.

“Primrose dear, I believe Dr. Ming requested to speak with you about a particular matter,” Aurelias says to Prim. “Don’t ask me which. I can hardly stay awake when that man beings to drone on.”

“Sure thing Dr. Aurelias,” Prim giggles. Prim gives Madge a quick hug before she steps around Dr. Aurelias and makes her way to wherever Ming was.

Before Madge can say anything, Aurelias parks himself in her seat and looks up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“And how are you adjusting to my laboratory, Miss. Undersee?” the elderly man asks her, snuggling deeper into her chair. Despite being a 13 native, the head doctor did not subscribe to the 13 conventions of referring to everyone by ‘soldier’. She supposes he’s old enough to remember his parents lived and spoke drastically different than how he did now.

“Fine, sir,” Madge answers with a humble duck of her head. “Just trying to do my part.”

“Hmm,” is all Aurelias says. “Have you been taking your anti-anxiety medicine?”

Madge bristles at his question. In her first few days working under them, she had been unknowingly diagnosed by him with PTSD through their brief and scattered conversations. She had not taken a single prescribed pill.

“Yes, sir,” Madge lies, her mind going to the steadily growing pile of pills she had shoved into her pair of spare boots.

For a moment, Aurealis doesn’t respond, just stares at her. It takes a lot of effort not to squirm.

“You work in a setting that resembles the location where you underwent a significant portion of your trauma, you seek neither counseling nor treatment, and refuse a standard anti-anxiety pill given to nearly every soldier that returns from active duty,” Aurelias states. “Why?”

Didn’t this guy have actual patients to attend to?

“I don’t need it, sir,” Madge says stiffly. And she didn’t. She wasn’t like her mother. She didn’t need a drug to make it through life.

“Could it be,” Aurelias beings, taking off his glasses to clean them with the edge of shirt. He places them back on. “There is a history of addiction in your family?”

Madge clenches her jaw tightly as her eyes flood with tears. She refuses to cry in front of this man, but to even hear that word...something very fragile breaks in her once more.

“Even if there was,” Madge says through gritted teeth, solving math equations in her mind to distract herself from tears. “That would not influence my decision. I have no need for medication.”

For a long moment, Aurelias simply stares at her. Finally, he sighs.

“You must forgive me, Miss. Undersee,” he apologizes tiredly as he stands slowly. “I’ll be the first to admit adolescent pscychology is not my specialization. I’m simply trying to find a footing.”

“Well find a new lab rat,” Madge snaps. Immediately, she regrets this.

 _Great...just what I needed,_ another _boss to hate me._

To her surprise though, the head doctor simply laughs.

“It seems I will have to,” He tells her. “Anyways. As Primrose said, as we will be bringing in Miss. Cartwright, we won’t need the lab staff today.”

Madge nods. “I’ll be going, then.”

Aurelias nods back, already focusing his attention elsewhere. Madge nearly runs out.

Outside in the hall, the lights aren’t much brighter, but she feels as if she can finally breathe again without the feeling the walls were closing in on her.

She takes a moment to rest her weight against the hallway wall, trying to get a grip on her out of wack emotions. Aurealis was wrong. She didn’t need medicine. She was fine. She was fine.

Taking a deep breath, Madge continues walking. She just needed an outlet for the stress. Yes, that was it! Being cooped up in a lab all day, it was bound to make anyone a bit cooky. She was just stressed.

She was halfway to the training gyms when a voice she hasn’t heard enough of lately reaches her ears.

Stopping abruptly and retracing her steps, Madge peers around a corner she had just passed. Sure enough, there’s Gale, deep in conversation with Beetee as they both walk side-by-side. Just the sight of him brings a dopey smile to her face.

After she got back, she and Gale found that neither of them had much time for each other, what with Madge in the medical laboratory, and Gale in an experimental one. He wouldn’t tell her what he was working on, and kept insisting it was a ‘surprise’, but in these past few weeks Madge only saw him at dinner, and even that time was sometimes cut short when he was called back to his labs.

Madge steps around the corner fully and Gale finally takes notice of her. Immediately, he cuts off his conversation with Beetee and steps forward quickly until he’s standing right in front of her.

“Hey,” he greets. She can tell he’s trying not to smile from how he’s pursing his lips. “How are you?”

“Better, now that you’re here,” Madge answers honestly, albeit shyly. Gale loses the battle against his mouth and his lips widen into a large grin. How she wished she could reach up and kiss him…

“There was a gas leak in our lab,” Gale explains, glancing behind him at Beetee. “We were going to a new lab but…”

Beetee seems to understand the situation. Throwing his hands up, he walks past them.

“There’s a reason I work with tech. Keep me out of these humane affairs,” he calls over his shoulder. Madge frowns at his retreating back. Was he applying he was a cyborg of some sort? She’d have to confer with Vick.

Before she can further develop her conspiracy theory, however, she’s spun back around into Gale’s embrace, and before her head has stopped spinning, Gale is kissing her.

For years, she had only dared to dream of such things, and now here she stood, actually kissing him! Uncaring that they were in the middle of a hallway where anyone could walk in on them, Madge deepens the kiss, the essence of him surrounding her.

Unhappily, she lets him break the kiss.

“Why’d you stop?” Madge pouts, tugging him by the shirt to bring him down again.

Gale laughs, that deep, booming laugh that made her toes curl.

“As much as I want to princess, I don’t think Ma would be too happy if she found out we got a citation for sucking face in public,” Gale chuckles, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading her to an unknown destination.

Madge raises an eyebrow as she allows herself to be led to wherever he was taking them. “Princess?”

Gale nods. “Yup. And I’m your shining knight in armor.”

Madge rolls her eyes but smiles mischievously. “Try ‘humble servant’ instead.”

Gale’s arm leaves her shoulders and a moment later her backside is pinched.

“Hey!” Madge exclaims, more shocked at his forwardness than anything.

“That’s what you get for being _naughty,_ ” Gale growls playfully as he herds her into an open elevator.

Madge now understood why girls her age had been so desperate for a boyfriend back in 12. Her legs shook with a kind of excitement she had never once felt before.

“Oh, really?” Madge questions, with her eyebrow raised once more. “And if I don’t learn my lesson?”

The elevator door closes behind Gale and he stalks towards her, a familiar gleam in his eye. It was the same look he had when he had her pinned down during their fight. Madge is shocked her knees aren’t knocking together.

“I’m a patient teacher,” he says in a low voice, hands coming to rest at her hips, before sliding back until he was cupping her.

“And I’m a bad student,” Madge warns in a breathy whisper. This time, when Gale kisses her, it’s totally different from the few kisses they’ve shared. It’s slower, needier...and not innocent.

When the elevator stops and the doors open with a _ding_ , Gale looks just as dazed as she feels. For a few minutes, neither of them speak as they walk. Wordlessly, Gale reaches over to hold her hand in his. She intertwines their fingers.

Madge wonders if everyone experiences love like this, or if she was just the luckiest girl in the world.

“Have you been to level 25 before?” Gale asks, pulling her from her rose-tinted thoughts.

“Hm? No, I haven’t.”

Gale smiles at her. “I think you’re gonna really like what I’m about to show you, then.”

“What is it?” Madge asks curiously, but Gale just shakes his head, face smug.

“Tell meee,” Madge whines, knowing she sounds like a child but uncaring. Gale lifts their entwined hands and kisses the back of hers.

“You’ll see.”

Well, that was an effective way of shutting her up, since she was now too giddy to speak.

Lucky for her, she doesn’t have to wait too long for her surprise. Gale leads her to a room with a door labeled SIMULATION A514. Whatever that meant.

“Ok princess,” Gale says as he reaches for the doorknob. “Close your eyes.”

Madge does as he says and finds herself holding in her breath with anticipation, Gale’s hands move her body forward.

“Open,” Gale whispers in her ear.

She’s in a meadow. And it’s not just a painting on the wall, like the rec room. It’s a an _actual_ meadow. There are grass and wildflowers on the ground, and above her, the roof is a bright blue sky.

“I…” Madge trails off, unable to articulate her wonderment. She bends down and runs her hand through the grass. It’s real. “How is this possible?”

Gale shrugs. “Science.”

Madge will take it. Stepping more into the artificial/real meadow, Madge takes a deep breath of air. Even _that_ smells fresh. How?

“I know they had chemical compounds to the air to trick our brains into thinking it’s fresh,” Gale says as he comes to stand next to her. “I think the ceiling is all CGI though.”

Madge doesn’t know what CGI is, and she doesn’t care. Turning to Gale, Madge takes his hands in hers.

“Thank you,” she whispers wetly. Distantly, she can hear birds tweeting. Peace settles further onto her heart. “You don’t know how much I needed this.”

Gale smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Settling onto the grass, Gale tugs her down until she’s sitting next to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Earlier you said you weren’t fine until you saw me.”

Hm. She didn’t expect him to be paying so much attention to her words. She supposes she should be touched.

“It’s nothing,” Madge stresses. “I’ve just been really stressed lately.”

“What specifically is stressing you?” Gale presses on, tracing gentle patterns her palms with his thumbs.

“Just-” Madge struggles to word what she’s been experiencing lately. “I worry we can’t help Peeta.”

Gale nods and looks down.

“It’s fucked up what they did to him,” he says quietly. “He didn’t deserve it.”

“That’s why it happened,” Madge responds glumly.

“Hey,” Gale says gently, tipping her chin up so she met his gaze. “You’re right. Peeta was hijacked because he was a good person. But that’s why we’re fighting this war. Because for too long good people have suffered. We’re gonna stop that, Madge.”

“I know,” Madge sighs, face dropping again. “But Gale...the lives that we lose on the way can never be replaced. I can only wonder if we’re replacing one horror with another.”

Gale doesn’t answer for a while. Madge plays with the grass around her and listens to mechanical birds sing. The rebellion is supposed to give a future to Panem’s children, but what future will Dante and Leo have?

None.

“When my dad died,” Gale speaks suddenly, making Madge jump. She looks back up at him and sees his face is unbearably sad. “My whole world fell apart. Ma was pregnant, Rory and Vick were young, and it was a harsh winter. To this day, I’m still surprised the three of us didn’t die.”

“Gale,” Madge whispers, heart aching for him, but unsure of how to comfort him. Gale, however, just continues on.

“I used to beg to the sky...let my dad come back. Even as a dream,” Gale recalls in a quiet voice. “He didn’t.”

Madge stays quiet, giving him the time to continue at his own pace.

“One day, a few months after my dad had died, I was in the woods as usual, trying to find some game,” Gale tells her, eyes distant. “It was awful weather. Raining so hard I could hardly see in front of me.”

“I was starving, had hardly slept the night before since Posy kept crying, and so so cold. Just when I wanted to give up and die, I slipped and fell down an incline. Hurt my leg. I decided that was a good of a place as any to die.”

“Of course, this was when a huge bear came face to face with me,” Gale chuckles. Madge gasps at his story. Katniss had told her how dangerous bears were. “Nearly shit my pants.”

“What happened?” Madge asks him, his story making her nervous even though she knew intellectually he was fine.

“A wolf came,” Gale says, meeting her surprised gaze. “It was the same lone wolf my dad and I encountered nearly a year ago.”

“Don’t wolves travel in packs?” Even Madge knew that much.

Gale nods. “That’s the thing,” he says. “When we found him, he was alone and hurt. Kind of like me. My dad felt so bad for it, instead of killing it, he bandaged it’s leg and gave it some food.”

“Did that wolf save you?” Madge asks incredulously.

Gale scratches the back of his neck. “Yes and no,” he answers. “He came and kinda just sat and stared at the bear. I have no idea what it would have done if the bear had decided to attack me, but before it had come, the bear had no problem approaching me.”

Madge looks up at the fake sky and considers Gale’s words.

“That’s when I realized, even though my dad was gone, the effects of his actions lived on,” Gale finally explains to her. “It made me realize that life isn’t meaningless. That everything we do has a purpose. And that we can decide that purpose, just like my dad did when he saved that wolf.”

She finally understands what he’s saying.

“They’re dead, but not gone,” Madge says softly, her eyes slowly filling with tears as she recalls her own father. “The imprint they left on our hearts will last forever. That’s their legacy.”

Gale tugs her gently towards him, and he lays them both down in the glass, Madge lying on his chest. That calm she was so urgently trying to find these past few weeks finally comes to her.

“Exactly,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head. “I know the price for peace is bloody, but we have to pay so our children don’t.”

Madge nods against his chest, recalling Anthony’s father and his last words.

_My revenge will be your laughter…_

“Wait a minute,” Madge sits up so she’s looking down at Gale. He seems surprised by her action. “I don’t recall agreeing having any number of children with you.”

Gale’s face goes from surprised to sly. Tugging her back down onto his chest, Gale’s arms lock around her back so she can’t go anywhere.

“Sorry princess,” he says in a tone that’s anything but apologetic. “But you’ve decided to fall in love with an awful brute of a peasant. When this war is over I’m gonna throw you over my shoulder and start working on making a bucket-full of kids.”

Madge folds her arms on top of his chest and rests her chin on them, staring down at Gale amusedly.

“Alright my handsome brute, what will you name these children?” Madge plays along, heart fluttering all the while.

Gale pretends to think for a moment. “Coal, Coalsephine, Coaljamin, and Coalarina.”

Both he and Made laugh loudly at these names. Gale is still chuckling when Madge kisses his cheek. He stills as she continues kissing the rest of his face, and even sighs when she kisses his eyelid. When she reaches the tip of his nose, she holds either side of his face in her hands and kisses him smack on the lips.

When she finally pulls away, Gale’s eyes are hooded and his hair askew.

“I love you,” she says because she can. “I would have fallen apart a long time ago if I did not keep your name in my heart.”

“I love you too,” Gale says against her lips as he pulls her down for another kiss. Without warning, he flips them over so it’s him that’s above her. The grass tickles her through her clothes.

“And I promise, I will end this war as quickly as I can,” he tells her in a low voice, his eyes tracing the features of her face. “I won’t let the people that caused you so much pain get off easy.”

Madge cups his cheek and gently rubs his cheekbone with her thumb. “My valiant knight.”

“Oh, have I been ranked up?” he teases, as his one hand comes up to gently caress her neck.

Madge giggles, tickled by his touch.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Gale says, his fingers stilling on her neck. “You know Finnick?”

Madge looks up at him to see if he’s kidding. “Gale, everyone does.”

He actually looks a bit sheepish.

“I meant personally,” he clarifies. “Anyways, he’s actually a pretty cool guy. His wedding is coming up soon.”

“I didn’t know they did weddings in 13,” Madge frowns. She also didn’t know Gale was buddy-buddy with Finnick Odair, but that was another thing.

“Yup” Gale nods, before grinning slyly at her. “So, Madge Undersee, will you be my date?”

Madge rolls her eyes. “You’ve done this all backwards. You’re supposed to take a girl on a date first, then kiss her, and then ask if she’s open to the possibility of children.”

“We’re Madge and Gale,” Gale laughs while tickling her, forcing her to laugh along. “With us, things are never simple.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Hope you guys loved this cavity-inducing fluff. I figured you guys earned it considering the past 24 chapters lol. Just a heads up though, don't get used it. Cue evil laughter soundtrack.


	26. Crossroads

Madge knows as soon as she steps into work that something is wrong. There was no other explanation as to why everyone was suddenly staring at her expectantly.

Immediately, her mind goes to yesterday. She had been told to forward an email, something she had just recently mastered, when her stupid computer told her that it’s storage was too low, and it required a “software update”. Long story short, Madge never found out just what a 'software' is, let alone how to update it, and patient #3092 had still not received their lab results.  

The door from which she entered reopens and Madge jumps when she sees Dr. Aurelius walk in.

_Here it comes…_

“Ah, Miss. Undersee!” her boss greets her in a suspiciously kind tone. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

Madge clasps her clammy hands behind her back. “Anything I can do for you, sir?”

He nods and waves her over as he walks past her. “Let’s discuss things in my office.”

Madge is trying to decide how she’ll explain to Hazelle that she’s been fired as she takes a seat in Aurelius’ cramped and messy office.

“You may or may not know this, but yesterday during his session with Miss. Cartwright, Mr. Mellark inquired about you,” Aurelius begins, not at all what Madge had been expecting him to say.

“He did?” Madge asks, almost completely surprised. She and Peeta had developed what resembled almost a friendship in the months leading up to the Quell, but she never would have thought he’d remember her after...everything.

Aurelius nods again. “Indeed he did. He seemed almost fond of you too, which is a very good sigh.”

“I’m...glad,” Madge responds hesitantly, still reeling from the news.

“Would you be willing to speak with him?” Aurelius asks bluntly.

Madge looks down at her hands that sit on her lap. Was she? The immediate answer was yes, of course, she’d do anything to help Peeta recover from the awful things done to him, but the part of her that was Katniss’ best friend made her hesitate. She knew that if it were Gale in that room, she’d want to speak to him herself, not Katniss.

But Madge already knew what would happen if Katniss tried to speak to him. The proof was the bruises on her neck. And if she did this, maybe she could help Peeta get to the point where he _could_ speak to Katniss again.

Maybe even love her again.

“I’ll do it.”

 

* * *

 

Peeta appears to be sleeping when she enters his room. He doesn’t stir when she shuts the large metal door behind her, or even when the mechanical lock system bolts it in place.

Not wanting to disturb him, she creeps quietly to the corner that holds his easel. She wonders if there’s a secret room in 13 brimming with paper and other art supplies.

Standing in front of his painting, it takes her a moment to place just what is painted. It’s only when she recognizes the Mayor’s Mansion does she realize with a sinking in her heart what the painting depicts.

The bombing of 12.

“Your parents died in that.”

Madge shuts her eyes to hold back the tears that sting them before turning around to face Peeta. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, his red-rimmed eyes watching her closely.

“They did,” Madge confirms quietly.

“So did mine,” Peeta says almost casually, but Madge catches the slight tremor under his words.

Madge just nods. You’d think a war would teach you how to react to someone mourning the loss of a loved one, but every time it happened, all Madge could do was look down at her feet remorsefully.

“And my brothers,” Peeta continues, hands clenching the sheet under him.

Madge points to the chair by Peeta’s bed. “May I sit there?”

Peeta shrugs and stares at his macabre painting. Madge moves over and tentatively sits next to him. For a moment, Madge just considers what to say as Peeta takes in the ashes of 12. Sitting closer to him, she can take him in better. His skin is sallow and sickly looking, while dark bruises hang off in heavy bags beneath his eyes. Peeta’s hair, once shining and springy, sits flat and listless on his head. What was truly disturbing were the tiny cuts that seemed to be etched onto every inch of his body.

Disgusted by how carelessly she had shrugged off Peeta’s torture, Madge gets up once more and sits next to him on his bed. He stiffens but otherwise doesn’t react.

“I know what it feels like to lose everything,” Madge begins quietly, clearing her throat to get rid of its sudden tightness. “To be completely alone...there’s nothing worse.”

Peeta remains stoic.

“When I first came to 13, I just wanted to lie in bed all day,” Madge confesses. “Living...pretending that I was ok when really, I just wanted to die, it was impossible. I cried all the time and wished I had never left my parents. I didn’t think I deserved to live.”

Peeta glances over at her finally, though his gaze remains emotionless.

“What finally broke me through that darkness was the realization that family isn’t just the people who have the same blood as you,” Madge tells him kindly. “Family can also be people who love and care for you because of who you _are_ , regardless of any physical relation.”

“I have no family,” Peeta says in a hollow voice, eyes returning to his painting. “Physically or not.”

Madge swallows her sadness for Peeta tightly.

“Perhaps you do not see me as your family,” she concedes. “And that’s fine. But Peeta, I care very much for you. And I know for a fact that Delly does too.”

Peeta turns to look at her sharply, his eyes narrowed in distrust.

“Delly, I get,” he says icily. “We were friends. Why would you care about me?”

This, Madge can answer easily.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks him rhetorically. “You’re kind, intelligent, talented, funny, and easy on the eyes. What’s not to like?”

He turns away from her again, but even from his profile, Madge can tell he’s digesting her words. After a view moments of silence, Peeta finally speaks.

“I want to be alone,” he dismisses her, getting up and limping to his easel. He tears off 12’s bombing and begins mixing new paints.

Madge also gets up.

“Thank you for speaking to me today,” Madge says softly. “Can I see you tomorrow too?”

Peeta picks up a paintbrush and hurriedly swipes it over the paper. After a minute, he turns to the side so she can see what he’s made.

It’s a crude painting of a bald middle-aged man, with black flames surrounding him, screaming in terror. At the top is written in a messy font,  MR MAYOR.

A rage so hot she can feel steam coming out of her ears immediately flames up from deep in her stomach. A part of her wants to cover her eyes and scream, while the other wants to go over and beat Peeta viciously. She torn between both options when she realizes this exact situation is a test from Peeta.

Shutting her eyes, Madge takes several calming breaths before walking over to Peeta. Calmly, but precisely, she tears down the “painting” and crushes it tightly in her palm.

“If you think this will make me give up on you, you couldn’t be more wrong,” Madge tells him strongly. “I will be here every day. Every night too, if that’s needed. I will talk to you when you want to talk, and I will be silent when you want silence. I will cry with you when you need to cry, and I will let you shout and rave when you are angry, but Peeta, you cannot paint such a thing like this again. At least, not when I can see. Alright?”

“You want to help me?” Peeta asks her shrilly, turning so he faced her completely. “Kill that mutt, and bring me her corpse.”

Madge blinks, taken aback by his request. She hadn’t known Peeta was still this...hijacked.

“I can’t do that,” she tells him with a shake of her head.

Peeta shakes his head right back. “Then you’re useless to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Madge says quietly. “But I just can’t do that.”

“She’s brainwashed you too,” he scoffs, looking at her with unconcealed disgust. “Just like the rest of them.”

“I am _not_ brainwashed,” Madge defends herself. “I’ve known Katniss for many years, Peeta. She isn’t at all what the Capital has made you think she is.”

“Shut up!” Peeta snarls, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

The door is suddenly opened and two armed guards come in.

“Soldier Undersee, it’s time for you to leave,” one of them says to her as the other pulls her towards the door.

“I”ll be back!” she calls out to Peeta just before she’s tossed out.

 

* * *

 

 

_Madge Undersee’s Medical Log of Patient Mellark_

 

_Day 2: Peeta ignored me. Dr. Aurelius didn’t think it was safe for me to go and talk to him, considering how volatile yesterday was, but I insisted. He was still angry with me for sure, but he also seemed vary._

 

_Day 3: Ignored again._

 

_Day 4: Ignored again._

 

_Day 5: Demanded when I would f***k off. Ignored for the rest of the time._

 

_Day 6: Tried to attack me._

 

_Day 7: Not allowed to visit._

 

_Day 8: Not allowed to visit._

 

_Day 9: Demerited for sneaking in, but the results were surprisingly positive. Peeta remembered a memory of him walking me home at night after training for the quell, and having tea in my kitchen. He said he liked my rose-patterned teacups._

 

_Day 10: Walked in to find a painting of my rose-patterned tea set. Ignored by Peeta._

 

_Day 11: Asked me why I was friends with Katniss. Listened silently to my explanation._

 

_Day 12: Asked to relegate how his family died. Showed extreme reaction to the mention of Gale._

 

_Day 13: Asked me if Katniss and Gale were married yet. Did not believe me when I told him Gale no longer loved Katniss. Dr. Aurelius advised me to not disclose my relationship with Gale to Peeta._

 

_Day 14: Showed me a painting of the cave from his first games. Asked me to tell him how the events that happened there went. Did not look like he believed me, but remained silent. I wish I could peer into his mind and point out everything that’s real and not, but for now, I will have to wait for him to confide more memories._

 

With a sigh, Madge presses ‘enter’ to submit her latest entry on Peeta’s progress. When she had agreed to all of this, she hadn’t realized just how emotionally taxing it would be to see Peeta struggle so much.

Her shift now technically over, Madge gets up and stretches out her stiff muscles.

“Dr. Chen, I’ll be leaving now if that’s alright,” Madge calls out to her supervisor, who is busy typing away at something. Dr. Chen looks up from her screen sharply.

“Soldier Undersee, if that log is _not_ in my inbox, there will be serious consequences,” her supervisor informs her sternly.

Madge hangs her head shamefully. “I double checked Dr. Chen, it 100% said ‘file sent’.”

Dr. Chen nods. “You’re dismissed then.”

Madge practically runs to the exit and lets out a deep sigh of relief the moment she’s in the hallway.

“Looks like someone’s vocation isn’t a vacation.”

“Gale!” Madge exclaims as she flings herself at her boyfriend. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” he says simply as he hugs her back. “So I said ‘fuck work’, and came to see you.”

“Hero of the working class,” Madge comments wryly before reaching up to kiss him quickly. “What do you want to do?”

Gale’s face becomes mischevious and he leans down to whisper in her ear.

“I think it’s been a long time since it’s been just the two of us in that old room of yours…”

Madge shivers at the feel of his breath on the shell of her ear, and suddenly she wants nothing more but be locked in that very room with Gale.

“Well, what are you standing there for?” Madge asks breathily, eyelashes fluttering involuntarily. “Lead the way.”

“Gladly, my beautiful princess,” Gale says as he winds his around her shoulders and tucks her into his side. “My apologies for not drawing up the carriage. I thought a stroll would be more romantic.”

Madge rolls her eyes at his antics. “Your wit is definitely why I love you.”

Gale just laughs. “I’m not surprised.”

The rest of their walk is filled with more flirty banter and light conversation. They’re nearly at their destination when everything gets shot to hell.

“Well, isn’t this an _adorable_ scene.”

Madge freezes at the sound of Mr. Abernathy’s voice. She may or may not have disclosed to him that she was now dating Gale.

Gale is the first to react. Turning around, he faces Mr. Abernathy with a very annoyed expression.

“Don’t you have a gutter to be lying in,” Gale snaps, as Madge winces at his tone. Mr. Abernathy ignores Gale’s remark and stares at Madge expectantly.

“I-,” Madge croaks, but she’s suddenly lost the ability to speak under Mr. Abernathy’s unforgiving gaze.

“Come with me,” Mr. Abernathy tells her in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

Madge nods meekly and tries to disentangle from Gale, but he tightens his grip on her.

“You don’t have to go with him, Madge,” Gale says acidly while glaring at Mr. Abernathy. Mr. Abernathy glares right back.

Before Mr. Abernathy can instigate what she’s sure will be a full out fight, Madge finally tugs away from Gale and walks over to Mr. Abernathy.

“I’ll see you later,” she says to a shocked looking Gale. To Mr. Abernathy, she tugs his arm gently. “Let’s go.”

To his credit, Mr. Abernathy doesn’t say anything until they reach his room. Silently, he gestures for her to take a seat. She does so, and he remains standing.

“What are you thinking Margaret?” Mr. Abernathy asks caustically. “Gale Hawthorne? _Really?”_

“I love him,” Madge answers back unflinchingly.

“Trust me, I’m all too aware of that unfortunate fact,” Mr. Abernathy huffs. “A district of 10,000, and you had to pick that moron? Figures.”

“I don’t see what the problem is!” Madge exclaims indignantly. “Sure, Gale has flaws, but so do I! I love him, and he loves me. Isn’t that enough?”

“It doesn’t!” Mr. Abernathy shouts back. “Love is never enough! Can’t you see? You’re just _there_ , so he is too! When you need him, he’ll be thinking of his own power, and by the time he reaches you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be _dead.”_

Madge stares at Mr. Abernathy, trying to make sense of his insane tirade. And then it clicks.

“This isn’t about me and Gale,” Madge laughs hollowly as she stands up slowly. “This is about you and my aunt.”

Mr. Abernathy opens his mouth to speak, but Madge silences him with a held up hand.

“I don’t know what happened between you two,” Madge continues. “And frankly, I no longer want to. You just proved you don’t really care about me, you’re just projecting your past on to me.”

“Pearl, how could you say that?” Mr. Abernathy croaks, face ashen. If Madge looked closely, she’d see the wetness in his eyes. “I think of you as a daughter.”

“No, you don’t!” Madge finally shouts, her own eyes growing wet. “You’re not my father, and I’m not my aunt, so stop trying to live out your weird fantasies with me--I’m not a doll that will play whatever role you’ll assign me!”

Deep down, she knows that she will regret these words. Perhaps for the rest of her life. Certainly, the image of the utter heartbreak on Mr. Abernathy’s face will haunt her for as long as she lives. But in the heat of the moment, Madge doesn’t care. She won’t let anyone hijack her or her feelings. She chooses how she lives.

Her days of sitting idly by a piano as the world spun on were over. That dollhouse had burned down.

Madge made her own decisions now, and it was with that she walks out of Mr. Abernathy’s room without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Madge stares at the lab order blankly.

It had been two days since her fallout with Mr. Abernathy, and she still felt ill at ease over the entire situation. While she didn’t particularly regret what had happened, the fact that she had hurt Mr. Abernathy still bothered her. But apologizing to him was out of the question, so she wasn’t quite sure where that left her.

“Solider Undersee?”

Madge looks up and sees one of the lab tech’s looking at her.

“Patient Mellark is ready to see you know.”

“Right,” Madge clears her throat and gets up. “Could you fill this order in for me?”

The tech looks annoyed at her request but nods anyway. Madge shoots her a grateful smile before heading down the lab to where Peeta was kept.

Peeta is sitting on his bed, hugging his knees when she walks in. To her surprise, he gives her a small smile when she comes in.

“Madge,” Peeta greets her, another first.

“Hi, Peeta,” Madge replies kindly. “How are you?”

“You didn’t come for two days,” Peeta immediately points out.

“Oh--I, I was sick,” Madge lies. The truth was after everything that happened with Mr. Abernathy, Madge didn’t have it in her to have another confrontation with Peeta. She didn’t stop to think he would miss her presence.

“Are you better?” Peeta asks.

Madge smiles brightly at him. “100%”

“I hope I can get better too,” Peeta says quietly, looking down at his bare feet. “I hate it here.”

“Oh, Peeta,” without thinking, Madge rushes over and opens her arms to hug Peeta. It’s only when she’s hugging him that she realizes that she has put herself in an extremely dangerous position.

But her morals don't allow her to pull away just like that, so she keeps Peeta in her hold. In the beginning, he’s totally stiff, but slowly his body relaxes. Eventually, his arms wind around her. And then he’s crying into her shoulder.

Peeta doesn’t speak, and Madge doesn’t make him. Sometimes crying is the most cleansing thing you can do. So she just holds him and he just cries. Madge can’t help but cry too, as her mind recalls reading just what exactly had happened to Peeta in the Capital.

“I’m sorry,” Madge whispers into his ears once his crying subsides. “Peeta, I am so sorry this has happened to you. But I promise I’m going to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to get all your memories back.”

“Thank you,” Peeta whispers back. “I don’t know how much longer I can live feeling like this.”

Madge pulls back and holds his face in her hands. His blue eyes stare back at her imploringly.

“You can get through this,” she assures him. “You’re not just a victor. You’re a fighter. A survivor. A lover. Your heart is strong enough to cross over this. I know it is.”

Something like recognition flashes in Peeta’s eyes, but before she can question what he’s remembered, he pulls away from her grip and lies down.

“I’m tired,” is all he says as he closes his eyes. “Good night.”

“Um...good night,” Madge says, slightly off-kilter at his sudden behavior. “See you tomorrow?”

Peeta grunts.

Wiping at her face, Madge stands by the door until it’s opened and she’s let out. She isn’t prepared for who’s waiting for her outside.

“Katniss!” Madge exclaims as she takes in her friend's appearance. She had visited her once during her hospitalization, but she had been unconscious. After that, she wasn’t allowed visitors.

Katniss just stares at her blankly. Her skin is pale and her hair is unkept as it hangs loosely around her frighteningly thin frame.

“He gets along well with you,” Katniss comments in a scratchy voice.

“Trust me, it took a lot of work to reach this point,” Madge tells her. “He tried attacking me in the beginning.”

Katniss nods distractedly and looks down at her feet.

“He’s getting better,” Madge says in an attempt to cheer her up. “I’m confident he’ll love you again.”

Katniss looks up at her sharply.

“How do you know that?” she asks her in a tremoring voice.

Madge purses her lips as she tries to think of a response that will make sense.  Walking closer to Katniss, she clasps her frigid hands gently.

“Because when you really love someone, that feeling never dies,” Madge whispers to her. “It lives on, through fires and wars. It can burn out, but never extinguished. The Capital may have stomped on Peeta’s love for you, but there’s still an ember of it glowing on. I can _feel_ it when I talk about you and he becomes confused.”

“Really?” Katniss breathes, a tinge of pink finally returning to her skin. Madgen nods vigorously.

“So stay hopeful,” Madge continues. “Anything can happen.”

Katniss nods again, looking less catatonic.

“Today is Finnick and Annie’s wedding,” Katniss says suddenly. “I’m supposed to go.”

 _Oh my God. That’s_ today?!

“I’ll go with you,” Madge says brightly, even though on the inside she’s crumbling at the realization she’ll have to cancel her and Gale’s first date. What was the saying? Sisters before Misters.

A ghost of a smile crosses Katniss’ features.

“Let’s go then,” Katniss says quietly, turning away from Peeta’s room first. Madge follows her out of the lab.

“Where is the wedding even held?” Madge asks her friend once they’re out in the hall. “I _still_ don’t know what a 13 wedding even consists of.”

Katniss shrugs. “Effie told me to meet up at her room and she’d take me to where the reception is.”

Madge bites back a groan. Just what she needed: Effie Trinket’s belligerent nonsense.

“Why do you like Effie?” Madge tries to ask casually.

Katniss shoots her a confused look but shrugs again.

“She’s nice. She cares.”

_Cares about boob implants…_

“How are things with Gale?” Katniss asks her suddenly.

Madge blinks rapidly, not at all expecting that question from Katniss.

“I, s-same as usual,” Madge stutters, unsure if Katniss is emotionally stable enough to hear that she’s romantically involved with her best friend

Katniss frowns. “He didn’t tell you he loves you when you got back?”

Madge’s mouth falls open as she stops walking. “He told you that?!”

Katniss raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“He didn’t tell you?” she asks incredulously. “I told him you love him before he left for his mission.”

Madge gapes at Katniss’ revelation, face burning at the fact that Gale knew about her feelings before she knew about his. Was that why he had even told her in the first place…?

“But why?” Madge whispers, not at all understanding the situation.

Katniss shrugs once more and looks away.

“I was awful to you before we left to 8,” Katniss confesses. “I wanted to make it up to you. I also wanted to make sure Gale would do everything to come back.”

Madge lurches forward to hug Katniss.

“We both said awful things,” Madge says to her still friend. “Thank you so much for doing what you did, but even if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have held anything against you.”

Katniss pats her shoulder. “I know.”

After that, Madge is in such a good mood, she doesn’t even care she’ll have to put up with Effie. Even Katniss seems almost happy.

And then they enter Effie’s room to find Katniss’ expectant prep team.

“No,” Katniss says immediately upon entering.

“Katniss, dear, try being reasonable,” Effie tries. “It’s important for the Mockingjay to look just spiffy during such a big event!”

“I refuse,” Katniss reiterates, shaking her head.

A green-skinned woman opens her mouth, most probably to persuade Katniss further, but Madge steps forward.

“You can work on me,” she volunteers. “The entire country knows me, and anyways, the longer they go without seeing Katniss, the happier they’ll be when she finally makes an appearance.”

Effie purses her lips. “This is very unorthodox…”

“She does have a more flattering figure,” a woman Madge doesn’t recognize speaks up.

“And her hair has a lot of potential,” another adds.

Effie throws up her hands.

“Fine!” she exclaims tiredly. “Katniss, darling, go on and enjoy the wedding. Your friend will join you looking absolutely jaw-dropping!”

“Thank you,” Katniss whispers to Madge before ducking out the door hurriedly.

Madge takes a deep breath as she mentally prepares herself for this new rut she’s thrown herself into.

“Come on then,” Effie chirps. “No time to be shy, we have a busy busy busy schedule ahead of us!”

The makeover isn’t as bad as Madge had expected it to be. They had clearly saved up the good stuff for Katniss, and being lathered in a rose-scented face mask wasn’t too bad of a way to spend time. Her eyes stung slightly as makeup was applied all over upper and lower eyelids, but the main source of conflict arose when it came to her hair.

“What are you going to do with my hair?” she asks a man with ice blue hair who was toying with her locks thoughtfully. He meets her gaze in the mirror in front of her.

“I was thinking about straightening it and teasing the roots,” he tells her through his thick capital accent.

“No,” Madge protests. “My hair has to stay wavey.”

Normally, she wouldn’t have cared, but Gale had revealed to her the other day he found the waves in her hair very attractive. No way she’d get rid of them now.

“I suppose I could curl it into big beach waves,” the blue-haired man muses.

“Very romantic,” the green-skinned woman hums as she paints Madge’s nails bright red.

By the time her hair and makeup is done, Madge hardly recognizes herself. She looked...older. Seductive?

“Time for the dress!” Effie squeals excitedly, pulling her behind a small room divider that provided a semblance of privacy. “Off with your robe, dear.”

Rolling her eyes at the older woman’s blatantly fake tone, Madge takes off her robe and lets Effie zip her into the extremely tight dress.

“Why is it so tight?” Madge huffs as Effie tugs it up past her hips.

“Well, it was designed for Katniss’s measurements,” Effie answers amusedly. “But we’ll get this on you, don’t you worry.”

After five grueling minutes of huffing and puffing and pulling on the stubborn fabric, Madge is finally zipped in. Effie hands her a pair of dauntingly high red high heels and her transformation is complete.

“And now for my favorite part,” Effie cries. “The reveal!”

The divider is removed and Madge finds herself staring into a full-length mirror.

“I look like a prostitute!” Madge yells at her reflection. “Look at me!”

“Language!” Effie gasps, hand flying up to rest on her chest. “And you absolutely do not!”

“Are you blind?” Madge shrills. “My boobs are about to fall out, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it tore from the back!”

“It’s _sexy_ ,” a red-eyed woman sighs exasperatedly. “Your behavior will determine if you look like a whore or not.”

Madge rounds on her, about to ask just what _that_ means, when the door opens and in comes Mr. Abernathy.

“Effie, are you out of your goddamn mind?” he booms as soon as he catches sight of her. “You can’t dress the girl up like that!”

“And why not, Haymitch?” Effie challenges, tipping up her chin defiantly.

“She’s just a girl!” Mr. Abernathy yells. “You’ve got her lookin’ like a damn hooker!”

“I can dress however I please,” Madge informs him coldly. Nodding to Effie and the prep team, Madge excuses herself and walks to the door. Right as she passes by him, Mr. Abernathy grabs her forearm.

“You don’t have to degrade yourself just to get a one-up on me,” he tells her darkly. Madge yanks her arm from her grasp.

“Leave me alone,” is all she says before leaving the room.

It’s only when she’s halfway down the hallway that she realizes she doesn’t know where she’s going.

 

* * *

 

“Thanks again,” Madge says to the 13 child that had taken her to where the reception was held. “I would have been lost without you.”

“Just doing my duty,” the 10-year-old informs her seriously. Madge was glad Vick didn’t act like him. Or Rory.

Together, she and the child enter the large hall where Finnick Oddair and Annie Cresta’s nuptials were being held.

The set up takes Madge’s breath away. It almost looks like a wedding that’d take place in the Capital. There are certain giveaway’s that it’s held in 13, like the lighting and dark colored walls, but everything else looks just...magical.

Madge searches through the crowd for a familiar face and indeed finds one, but it’s not one she was looking for.

“Miss. Undersee,” Heavensbee greets her agreeably as he nears. “You certainly look nice tonight.”

“Mr. Heavensbee,” Madge greets back tightly. “How have you been?”

“Fine, fine,” Heavensbee waves. “How have _you_ been since your ‘debut’ in 8?”

Immediately, Madge remembers the hospital blowing up in front of her.

“I wouldn’t call it a debut,” Madge replies. “I’d call it a duty.”

Heavensbee snaps his fingers.

“There it is,” he chuckles. “I like your spunk. More importantly, I like the way you think.”

Madge narrows her eyes as she studies the older man in front of her.

“What do you want?” she asks bluntly.

“For now? Just a picture,” he answers lightly. “But later on, I believe you and I can be of great help to each other, Miss. Undersee.”

“What sort of help,” Madge inquires with a raised eyebrow.

“We have a shared interest,” Heavensbee explains. “A revolution with as low of a death toll possible. If you chose to take part if filmed propos, not only could you help out Katniss by alleviating some of the burden on her, but you’d also be helping this revolution we both so dearly love.”

“No thank you,” Madge tells him clearly. “I’m not the Mockingjay. Katniss is. Not only do I not want to replace her, I couldn’t even if I tried.”

“No one said anything about replacements,” Heavensbee points out. “Anyways, we’re both getting ahead of each other. How about that picture?”

“What for?” Madge asks, immediately suspicious.

“The children back in 8’s hospital miss you,” he tells her. “A picture with a message would do wonders.”

Well...if it was for those kids…

“Just one picture,” Madge stipulates sternly.

Heavensbee nods. “Just one.”

He pulls out a camera from his coat pocket and holds it up expectantly.

“Should I pose?” Madge asks awkwardly, shifting on her feet unsurely.

“Hmm. Maybe blowing them a kiss?” Heavensbee suggests. Madge shrugs and does exactly that. Heavensbee takes the picture and looks at the camera’s screen smugly.

“Perfect,” he decides. “I’ll be out of your hair then. Enjoy the wedding, Miss. Undersee.”

Madge couldn’t help but feel perturbed by that conversation. But she had done the right thing. Katniss was the Mockingjay. There was no doubt about that. Madge was just here to help out.

At that moment, Madge catches sight of Posy, who’s in a frilly pink dress.

“Posy!” Madge cries as she rushes towards the younger girl. “You look so pretty!”

“Sissy!” Posy shouts as she runs towards Madge. It’s difficult to bend down and scoop up Posy in her outfit, but she manages. She greets the rest of the Hawthorne clan as well. Hazelle clearly disapproves of the dress but doesn’t say anything...outwardly. For a while, the four of them chit chat as they munch on the food spread laid out for the event, but the two brothers stand distracted. Rory stares glumly at Prim who’s chatting with Katniss and Vick is playing a game on his communicuff. At least Katniss seemed content enough that Madge could stay with the Hawthorne’s.

No sign of Gale anywhere.

Even when they’re shuffled into their seats for the marriage ceremony, Gale is still absent. Madge takes in Finnick Oddair’s profile absent-mindedly as she wondered where Gale was. Could it be that he had to bail their date? Figures that karma would come back and bite her for that one.

Finnick is reading his love-sick vows when someone slides into the seat next to her. She ignores them as she listens in on Finnick’s clear adoration for his soon-to-be wife. She wonders if Gale loves her that much…

The person next to her taps her shoulder, and she frowns and faces them, annoyed they were interrupting such a tender moment.

There sat Gale, looking so handsome in his combed hair and tux, he blew Finnick Oddair straight out of the water.

“Are you trying to give a heart attack wearing that dress?” Gale whispers to her suggestively, eyes raking down her frame.

“I could say to the same to you,” Madge whispers back. “You should wear your hair like that all the time…”

“There’s a limit of what I’d do, even for you,” Gale jokes, reaching over to hold her hand. It’s Annie’s turn to say her vows, and all she says is, ‘I love you, Finnick’.

As Madge watches Gale watch Annie and Finnick kiss as husband and wife for the first, Madge decides that that was the perfect vow.

As Annie and Finnick break apart, the music begins to play, and the after party finally begins.

Gale gets up and bows. “May I have this dance, princess?”

“You may,” she giggles, giving him her hand. He tugs her to the dance floor and then into his hold. The music is fast-paced and rowdy, but she and Gale just stand there, swaying in each other’s embrace.

“The wedding was nice,” Gale comments suddenly. “But I like how we do it in 12 more.”

“You mean a toasting?” Madge asks. Gale nods. “So do I, really. But it was nice to experience something new.”

Gale shrugs. “I guess. But when it’s our turn, you better not ask for something _new_.”

The current song ends and a new, slower one comes on.

“You want to marry me?” Madge breathes. A billion butterflies errupt in her stomach as everything fades to back, making her feel as if it's only her and Gale in this lovely dream.

Gale tries to frown but his lips betray his true feelings.

“Of course I do,” Gale whispers. “My life is yours.”

Madge rests her head above his heart, shutting her eyes as tears threatened to escape. “And mine yours.”

Gale tips her face up by her chin and leans down and kisses her lips softly.

“Happy birthday, Madge,” he breathes against her lips. “I love you.”

A tear finally rolls down her cheek. “You found out my birthday?”

Gale nods. “Of course I did. I was late cause I was finishing up your present.”

“You got me a present?” Madge asks in wonderment. “Gale, you didn’t have to do that…”

“Of course I did,” he says, wiping away the trail of her tear. “Come on, let me show it to you.”

“But the party,” Madge protest weakly.

“Fuck the party,” Gale says easily as he leads her out by the hand. Any guilt Madge feels for leaving early is gone as soon as she’s alone with Gale. Suddenly, she’s glad she’s in this dress. What better way to celebrate turning 18 then doing...well, adult things.

“Gale,” Madge whines after 20 minutes of walking. “Why did you bring me to your lab?”

“Don’t you want your present, woman,” Gale jokingly chides. “Get in here.”

Madge steps into the lab with a sigh, fully expecting Gale’s present to be her sitting next to him while he worked or something like that when he pulls her to him and kisses her like she’s never been kissed before.

His hands, which usually stayed by her sides whenever they kissed now drifted. His left hand slid down to clutch her backside while his right came up and cupped her breast. Unused to such attentions, Madge can’t help but moan into his mouth. Gale takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, yet another thing he’s never done before.

She doesn’t even realize he’s been walking her backward until her back hits a worktable that Gale lowers her onto. With him hovering over as she lay stretched out beneath him, Madge’s stomach burned as if she had swallowed liquid gold. It was euphoric.

“Present,” Gale rasps, face flushed and hair asked as he tries to move away. Madge makes a sound of protest and pulls him back down to her, this time rubbing _her_ tongue against his. She’s not sure how long they continue like this, but when Gale finally pulls away again, her lips are bruised and his shirt is untucked and unbuttoned. 

“Present,” Gale repeats more firmly. “And then we can go to your room.”

“Ok,” Madge sighs, since agreeing will be the quickest way to get her way.

Gale walks over and opens a drawer before pulling out a blueprint.

Handing it over to her as Madge sits up, Gale smiles at her.

“This is what I’ve been working on all this time. This is all for you, Madge.”

Madge takes the blueprint from him and unrolls it.

M.A.D.G.E

 

_Momentary-Activated Delay Guided bomb Expansive unit_

Below that are technical drawings that Madge can’t make head or tails of.

“What...what is this?” Madge asks Gale hesitantly.

Gale nods, as if he were expecting this.

“Do you remember when I promised you I would end this war as quickly as possible?”

Madge nods, hesitant once more. The butterflies that were alive in her stomach earlier have all turned to stone.

“This is me making good on that promise,” Gale tell her proudly. “This is an interconnected bomb unit that has missile-like precision in terms of landing. It essentially has two rounds. When the first bomb goes off, it sets off a beacon device that triggers the falling of the second bomb.”

“What’s the need for two bombs in the same place?” Madge asks, not understanding where he was going.

“Look at this,” Gale points to a figure in the bottom corner of the blueprint.

“Is that...” Madge squints and looks closer at the drawing. “Is that a silver parachute?”

“Exactly,” Gale grins. “The medics that will inevitably come to save those peacekeeping bastards will think the Capital is sending in aid. Then boom! They’re gone too.”

Madge opens and closes her mouth twice, but she doesn’t know what to say. She wants to both faint and vomit at the same time.

It takes Gale a minute to catch on.

“What?” he frowns, clearly not understanding why she wasn’t reacting.

“Gale,” Madge begins slowly. “This is immoral.”

Gale stiffens suddenly.

“This is immoral and inhumane,” Madge continues. “Medics are not actively fighting. They aren’t fighting period. You can’t target a non-violent civilian group like this.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Gale hisses incredulously. “Madge they’re Capital. They’re the _enemy_. Isn’t their downfall what you wanted?”

“Not like this!” Madge cries. “If you do this, you’re just the same as the Capital!”

“How dare you!” Gale shouts at her, his tall frame shaking in anger. “I’m not the one that starved millions of people, that sent 24 kids to a death arena every year! How could you fucking compare me to those savage fucking pigs?”

“This disregard for human life is what makes you the same,” Madge whispers tremulously. “Gale I _know_ how terribly the Capital has wronged you in your life. I swear I do. But this isn’t the way.”

“And why not?” Gale demands. “Each and every fucking Capitalite has a blood debt.”

“There’s a difference between demanding justice and seeking revenge,” Madge tries desperately to explain. Gale turns away from her, fists clenched and shoulders hunched.

“You’re a good person Gale,” Madge chokes out as she gets up off the table. “I know you are. Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m creating a new world,” Gale says, back still to her. “I will bring peace to this nation. With or without you.”

“Gale, please,” Madge begs. “We--we can run away! Forget all about the war. We’ll find a new place to live, to get married-”

“No,” Gale interrupts her, turning back to face her. “We’ll stay here, and when our children will read history books, they will learn about how we exterminated those Capital cockroaches.”

Madge just stares at Gale as tears run unabashedly down her face.

“It’s like I don’t even know who you are,” Madge whispers through her sobs. “I wonder now if I ever even did.”

This seems to pull Gale through his anger. At least partly. Stepping towards her, he grips her shoulders.

“Wake up, Madge,” he urges her quietly. “No war has been won by pacifism. I need you by my side to succeed.”

Madge steps away from him and shakes her head. He’s standing right in front of her, but she’s never felt further from him.

“I would follow you even to hell,” she tells him as her heart breaks in a way she knows that will never be repaired. “But this? You’ve gone down a path I can’t follow.”

Gale’s face twists in fury and for one brief and terrible moment she’s afraid he’s going to strike her, but his fist lands in the screen of the computer by her, completely shattering it.

“Goodbye, Gale,” Madge says quietly as she rushes out of the room, nearly blind by her tears. She can hear Gale’s destructive rampage continue even once she’s outside, but it’s all she can do but chuck off her heels and sprint to her room, where her sobs wreck through her for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years my friends! Here, have an extremely depressing chapter :)
> 
> In my defense, I *did* warn y'all that major angst was right around the corner. Also, if Madge and Gale's conversation at the end feels familiar....it's bc it's 100% inspired by my other fav fictional couple, Anakin and Padme. Disney, please don't sue me. 
> 
> Some bookkeeping...believe it or not, this fic is reaching its end. Now, while there is still a lot that has to happen, the time has finally come for me to stop being lazy and properly plot everything out. This may take a while, so if you don't see on an update on this, that's why. 
> 
> Anyways, as always, thanks for reading and please, let me know what you liked, disliked, or anything you'd like to see in the future. Have a great 2019 <3


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